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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134044">Renegade</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs'>baeconandeggs</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongincident/pseuds/jongincident'>jongincident</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>EXO (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Science Fiction, x-exo baekhyun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:14:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>44,278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24134044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongincident/pseuds/jongincident</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Chanyeol has three rules to bounty hunting: do not approach the target, leave no trace of involvement, and try not to get too personally attached. These rules aren't too hard to follow as long as he's getting paid...until he gets his ass kicked by his newest target.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>BAE2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Prompt:</b> BAE362<br/><span class="small"><b>Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.</b> The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Author's Note:</b> Thank you dear prompter, for submitting the perfect prompt and my favorite concept (cyberpunk). This is the longest fic I've ever planned and written, but I thoroughly enjoyed it and tried my best to fulfill your desires. I gained a lot of inspiration from outside sources, including cyberpunk artwork, the movie "The Witch Part 1: The Subversion," Youtube combat videos, and a certain scene from "The Hunger Games: Mocking Jay Part 2." And to all readers, thank you for giving this a chance!<br/>You can find me on <a href="http://twitter.com/jongincident">twitter</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You have a new assignment.”</p>
<p>The front profile of a man’s face fills the hologram interface. At first glance, he is youthful. His slender face carries high cheekbones that curve down into a smoothly tapered jaw. Even through an electronic screen, his pale skin appears tender, lacking the edges and ridges that harden the visages of most criminals. The man seems gentle and docile. Elegant, even. But a closer look at his icy blue eyes reveals a gaze that holds a certain intensity — a synthesis of rancor, sorrow, enigma, zeal, and calamity.</p>
<p>The flashing text at the bottom of the screen reads, <em>Wanted: Byun Baekhyun. </em></p>
<p>“A reward for your consistent record over the past year as a hunter, if you will,” Kim Jongwoon, the head of the Consulate’s Domestic Security Bureau continues, voice sharp as ice. “Do not be fooled by his appearance,” he warns, as if he can read Chanyeol’s mind. “Byun Baekhyun is not easy. Let’s just say others have had...a difficult experience with him. He is not normal. Escaped from one of our science facilities twenty years ago and has been nothing but trouble since.” </p>
<p>Not easy, code phrase for: nearly impossible to kill. Difficult experience, code phrase for: others have tried and failed. Chanyeol silently begs for Jongwoon to say more, to explain what “not normal” and “nothing but trouble” mean. He needs Jongwoon to elaborate: Why has he been chosen to be the Hunter for this assignment?</p>
<p>Yet Chanyeol hides his rambling thoughts behind a stiff posture and sealed lips. Jongwoon holds a disdainful presence that never fails to send shivers crawling down his spine. One wrong question, one misstep, and Jongwoon might shatter his life with a raise of an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Why you? What makes me believe you’ll be any different? That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” Jongwoon scoffs.</p>
<p>No response. Chanyeol figures that Jongwoon doesn’t need one; perhaps, the latter truly can read minds.</p>
<p>“You hold a motivation not shared by the other Hunters. The prize is one million dollars. Enough to cover the rest of your mother’s medical bills.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Wanted: Byun Baekhyun. Age: 27. Height: 173 cm. Weight: 65 kg. Eye color: blue. Hair color: platinum. Wanted for: dissent, sedition, violent insurrection. Caution: extreme speed, immense strength, and light manipulation abilities. </em>
</p>
<p>A frown embeds itself on Chanyeol’s face and grows as he continues scanning Baekhyun’s report. Pages upon pages detail the criminal’s physical appearance, but his crimes are vague. At last, Chanyeol reaches the lines he is searching for.</p>
<p>
  <em>DANGER: Baekhyun is not and should not be treated as a human criminal. Baekhyun has enhanced genetics resulting from the Consulate’s past clone experiments from 2149. Experiments have since shut down. </em>
</p>
<p>The explanation ends there. Chanyeol’s frown returns, this time with an unsettling dissatisfaction brewing in his chest. The Consulate’s criminal reports usually contain all possible information — including unnecessary details — on the wanted subject. Combined with the meager explanation Jongwoon provided, Chanyeol does not have a good feeling about this assignment. The less he knows about Baekhyun, the harder it will be to hunt him down. The harder it is to assess the danger he’s up against.</p>
<p>But the <em>money</em>.</p>
<p>One million dollars is greater than the sum of all the money he has ever laid eyes on. In the Fourth District of Koryo, where thieves lurk among dark alleys and desperate beggars sell their organs in the black market, wealth is scarce. Chanyeol is one of the lucky ones, fortunate enough that such a large sum can even cross his mind.</p>
<p>He lets out a shaky breath — one tinged with not nervousness, but with hope. His mother will be out in three years, he is certain. Perhaps he will not have to wait that long, and her loving gaze will grace his presence before then. Moving forward with the assignment is an easy decision. The positive gains of the end outweigh any uncertainty he has in the means.</p>
<p>This mindset holds true for a majority of those who have become entangled in the Bounty Hunting industry. It is a delicate situation; weighing the dangers of Bounty Hunting to the possible monetary gains is a difficult opportunity cost calculation. No one becomes a Hunter for sheer thrill. Most are pressured by overwhelming debts clawing at their throat, in which Bounty Hunting becomes their last option other than death at the Consulate’s hand. The more desperate, the more one is willing to toy with risk.</p>
<p>Though a multitude of unfortunate stories of failed missions, graphic deaths, and post-traumatic experiences have circulated the community, few are deterred from continuing or joining the industry. The details of each story become twisted to the extent that no one can distinguish between truth and exaggeration. Gradually, everyone dismisses the stories as myths.</p>
<p>Ironically, a handful of hyperbolic success stories rose their way to fame and thus propagated a supposedly universal truth — that the Bounty Hunting industry is the most accessible vehicle for social mobility. The working-class Proles have the opportunity to become the middle-class Bourgeoisie, and if lucky, even a member of the upper-class Establishment. No one dares to dream about becoming a member of the Consulate; the top members of the Koryo’s government include only those born and bred as the utmost elite members of society.</p>
<p>As for Chanyeol, he holds no daring ambitions to move up the social ladder. He doesn’t crave luxury or privilege, only the desire to see his mother’s smile again. Her smile lines and crinkled eyes are his only sliver of tenderness in a rough world. But they are only a faint memory, already fading.</p>
<p>As long as he does not slip down into becoming an Outcast, the lowest rung of society, he is satisfied with his position as a Prole. He is accustomed to the humble life among tight homes and smog-filled air; it is all that he has ever known. Chanyeol grasps onto a fragment of hope that Baekhyun will be his last mission. As soon as his mother is healed, he will extricate himself from the industry before he too tumbles into the potholes of Bounty Hunting.</p>
<p>Chanyeol closes the report and rubs his eyes, relieving them from strain. His one-bedroom apartment is not only dark, but also dank. During the daytime, a bit of light filters through the single cracked window, but after dusk, he relies on a meager strip of cool-white light hanging from his ceiling. There are eye implants for correcting night vision available on the market, but Chanyeol doesn’t have that kind of money to spare.</p>
<p>Outside his window, distant fluorescent signs and advertisements in a blend of Chinese, Japanese, and English illuminate the night sky. The latest promotion for the Exodia 120, the latest humanoid robot, displays on a digital billboard that covers an entire side of a skyscraper. Living in the Fourth District dedicated to the Proles means that at least he has a nice view of the clean, modernized city, even if he does not have the fortune of living there. Sometimes, Chanyeol longs to live in the inner city. Sometimes, ugly vines of envy crawl inside his stomach when he pictures how different his life could be if he was just <em>born </em>in a different place. But these sentiments quickly fade when he remembers that there is a reason for how Koryo’s society is structured. Structure is what creates stability and has enabled humanity to survive for millennia.</p>
<p>Instead of the usual exhaustion that pulls down his eyelids, tonight Chanyeol is energized by curiosity and a sense of purpose.</p>
<p>His multi-monitor interface located in the corner of his room flickers on. Dara is Chanyeol’s first and only love — always dependable, present, insanely intelligent, and daresay, beautiful. He built her himself out of the finest junkyard scraps he collected over the course of a year. It was not easy, considering how few Proles have expertise on computers, let alone how to construct one from scratch. This feeling of agency, of creation, and of mastery is what gives Chanyeol pride.</p>
<p>Koryo’s interwebs captured Chanyeol’s interest when he was an innocuous teenager.</p>
<p>“You know the interwebs, right? I heard that they are censored and controlled by the Consulate.” His friend Sehun brought up in a hushed whisper during school lunch break.</p>
<p>“Are they? Well, even if they are, it must be for a good reason. Who knows what kind of nasty information could radicalize someone?” Jongin, their other friend, said as he bit into a piece of stale bread. He was always an ardent supporter of the Consulate.</p>
<p>Chanyeol remained silent, feigning his indifference. Inside, he whirred with questions — who had access to the interwebs? Could he gain access to them? Could anyone — god forbid — break through the Consulate’s firewall?</p>
<p>It was this conversation that inspired the creation of Dara. And over the course of ten years, he answered his questions one by one.</p>
<p>The interwebs are reserved for use only by members of the Establishment and the Consulate, but Chanyeol was eighteen years old when he first gained access to them. He’d learned that no one could break through the Consulate’s firewall, but when his interweb search finally dug up articles of international current events, he realized that anything is possible with skill and persistence. He realized that, in theory, anyone could circumvent the Consulate’s censorship. But the citizens of Koryo do not even make the attempt. They trust that the Consulate’s actions are in the best of their interests. And of course, no one wants to know the consequences of breaking the law.</p>
<p>Chanyeol never expected that hacking, a dangerous but thrilling pastime, would become his main source of income. But in the most astonishing ways, his skill is cunningly useful. Given the immense physicality of Hunting, other Hunters underestimate him for his gangly build. Hunters are supposed to be rugged, Herculean, oozing power — and Chanyeol is anything but that.</p>
<p>His success with Bounty Hunting does not come from his physique. Rather, his ability to hack and gather information is what makes him unique. It’s quite simple; most government targets are careless and fail to cover their traces. First, Chanyeol gathers information not given to him by the Consulate from the interwebs — information either not yet uncovered by the Consulate, or purposefully hidden from him. Then, Chanyeol can hack communication servers and electronic devices, uncovering their location, friends, family, and sometimes even a network of rebel allies.</p>
<p>Others would say that the best part of Hunting is the physical kill, devouring the incredulity marked on the targets’ faces when they realize too late that their life has been cut short. Chanyeol is someone who enjoys the long process of learning about his targets. He savors the childlike joy of uncovering secrets and trespassing into forbidden territory. It conjures a world where everything is a mystery that only he can solve.</p>
<p>The process begins. Fingers blaze across his keyboard. Adrenaline surges through his veins. Even after capturing dozens of targets, he never stops craving the high that comes with hacking for a purpose. Dara flashes red with a confirmation that the government firewall has been broken.</p>
<p>A progress bar pops up and begins to fill up from the left. <em>Loading. Loading.</em> Chanyeol’s heartbeat crescendos in his chest…</p>
<p><em>Success</em>.</p>
<p>Yet, in contrast to his usual euphoria, the results displayed on the screen etch a frown on Chanyeol’s face. All that appears is a one-page document containing basic information about Baekhyun which Chanyeol already has access to through the assignment report. It is not the fact that this would make his mission harder that disappoints him. Rather, the lack of results is telling of something else: The Consulate has something to hide. This is bad. Hidden truths are worse than believable lies.</p>
<p>But then, he sees it. A flash, a flicker, a quick line of text that appears on the screen. Chanyeol’s heart clenches as he rushes in a fury, churning out lines of code to capture that spark of information.</p>
<p><em>Loading. Loading</em>. At last, with a satisfying grunt, Chanyeol sits back in his chair.</p>
<p><em>Spotted: Fourth District #4829</em>. It’s a location, most likely detected by an activation of an electronic device. Though the activation is brief, and Chanyeol is uncertain that Baekhyun will be at the location for an extended time period, it is the only nugget of information that Chanyeol can hold onto.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>***</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“What do you want to be when you grow up, Chanyeol?” His sixth-grade teacher asked him on the first day of school.</p>
<p>“I want to work in the Consulate,” Chanyeol’s eleven-year-old self exclaimed, starry-eyed and ambitious.</p>
<p>He did not expect that his teacher would clutch her sides and bend over in laughter. Each laugh mocked him, trampled on his confidence, and scolded him for his foolishness. When she finally got hold of herself, she said, “Don’t get your hopes too high, kid. Life doesn’t work the way you want it to.”</p>
<p>Inside, a part of Chanyeol shattered. His glow waned; his dreams ebbed. That night, Chanyeol cried himself hollow. His pillows were streaked with tears and remnants of the fantasy he had stupidly believed in. But by the next morning, his pillow was dry. His disappointment was gone, replaced by a zealous fury. Patching himself together even stronger, he was determined to prove his teacher wrong.</p>
<p>Tucked in the back of the Fourth District marketplace, there was a hidden shop. Chanyeol stumbled upon it one afternoon when he got lost on his way to purchase food for his mother. The clouds suddenly darkened ferociously and began to pour buckets. With a basket of food atop his head to shield the rain, Chanyeol ducked into the first shelter he could find.</p>
<p>As soon as he set foot inside, he was hit by an unfamiliar musty smell. The place radiated with old age, like a time capsule from the past. One dim yellow light hung from the ceiling. When his eyes finally adjusted to the poor lighting, he found himself in a room so tiny that the walls seemed to be enclosing upon him. Soon, Chanyeol realized that he was not looking at walls in the traditional sense. They were tall shelves, stretching from the ceiling to the floor, covered in <em>books</em>.</p>
<p>Chanyeol had never seen a book before then. In school, he was taught that books were a phenomenon of the past, that they had been burned and destroyed before the founding of Koryo. At that moment, he realized that either what he was taught was false, or the existence of the bookshop was unknown. Regardless of whichever case was true, he was grounded by intrigue.</p>
<p>“Hello, child.”</p>
<p>Chanyeol leapt at the voice. Turning around, he spotted a hunched figure behind a tall desk. How had he missed that?</p>
<p>“Sorry to startle you.” The figure shifted. The dim light revealed an old, wrinkled man who looked too feeble to stand. “What brings you here?”</p>
<p>“I got lost.” The words slipped out of Chanyeol’s mouth before he could think twice. He was always taught not to reply to strangers, but he could not help trusting the old man. The man felt familiar, like someone he had known his entire life.</p>
<p>“Well, you are welcome to stay until the rain passes. I don’t get visitors often, so you can be my company.”</p>
<p>Chanyeol glanced around at the shelves before one book finally caught his eye. It had a thick spine and its cover carried a layer of dust instead of a title.</p>
<p>“May I?” He asked.</p>
<p>The bookkeeper nodded. “None of these books are for sale, actually. As long as you return the book, go ahead.”</p>
<p>Chanyeol opened the book hesitantly. He was not sure what he would find, what may be contained in those pages that was not accessible to the rest of Koryo.</p>
<p>The book was a manual, a comprehensive guide on electronics. Little did he know that it would be the start to his fascination for computers. Sitting on the cold floor, he devoured every page, reading each sentence twice to make sure it was ingrained in his mind. By the time the bookkeeper regretfully had to close the shop, Chanyeol was only fifty pages in. As the night wind licked at his cheeks on his way home, he vowed to return.</p>
<p>When other children played outside in the dirty streets, Chanyeol spent his afternoons and evenings poring over the pages of the manual. It took a month to finish this first book, two weeks for the second, and only one week for the third. It was a pleasant surprise when his teacher’s history lesson covered topics that he had already read about under the weak light of the hidden bookstore.</p>
<p>The first time his teacher called out “Park Chanyeol” as the highest-ranked test score in his grade, he could hardly contain a grin at his teacher’s astonishment. It was not long before his name was called out for every test, in every subject.</p>
<p>In ninth grade, his classes stopped teaching lessons on literature, history, mathematics, and science. They were replaced by lessons held in factories, where they were taught how to assemble uniform gadgets.</p>
<p>“Why aren’t we learning in a classroom?” Chanyeol asked one day, hands covered in blisters.</p>
<p>The instructor scoffed. “What use is a classroom? You all will become factory workers, how will writing essays help you with that?”</p>
<p>However, the instructor promised that there would be one golden opportunity in their last year of school. The student who graduated with the highest score on the final exam could take the opportunity to leave the Prole life and work for the Consulate. Though they would not become a member of the elite Consulate, working under them was still a fantasy for many. Clasping onto that hint of a dream, Chanyeol read late into the nights.</p>
<p>The summer before his last year, Chanyeol’s hopes shattered for the third time. In his younger years, he had always envisioned his mother as strong — fiercely independent, without a husband, working two shifts to compensate, all while never leaving Chanyeol hungry. But in the last few years of school, he watched worriedly as his mother’s strength steadily dwindled down. Nothing pained him more than her seeing her callused hands tremble with every movement. With her only able to work one shift, he cut down on his reading to take a job at the factory. Though difficult, with effort, Chanyeol managed to strike a delicate balance between learning and work.</p>
<p>It hurt most when his dream was at last ripped from between his fingertips. That humid summer day when his mother lay stationery in her bed, unable to even sit up, Chanyeol was forced to deal with the stark reality that education was an impractical fantasy for him. Sometimes there were uncontrollable factors that meant hard work did not always pay off. He dragged himself to a second shift and has not stepped foot in school and in the bookstore since.</p>
<p>He began to realize how truly small and insignificant he was, how little he mattered in the grand scheme of things. The same powerful families since the founding of Koryo would always make up the Consulate. Promises of social mobility were unfulfilled, only a tactic to squeeze labor from the working-class Proles. People like him would remain near the bottom of the social pyramid.</p>
<p>Only Bounty Hunting offered a potential escape from the menial, excruciating factory labor. Once you entered the industry, there was no going back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please knock,” reads the rusty sign hanging precariously on the metal door. Chanyeol raps with his knuckles three times, each knock echoing, before stepping back.</p>
<p>The address Fourth District #4829 led him to the outskirts of the District, where he has never ventured before. It was a difficult place to find, each alleyway a mirror image of the next, but he ended up finding an out-of-place door hidden behind a dumpster.</p>
<p>The door opens with a creak that sends shivers down Chanyeol’s spine. A young man who looks approximately his age peaks through the crack.</p>
<p>“How may I help you?” The man’s voice is nasally and carries a hint of suspicion.</p>
<p>“May I ask the owner of this place a few questions?”</p>
<p>The man narrows his feline-like eyes and scans Chanyeol up and down. When Chanyeol doesn’t budge, the man tilts his head, beckoning Chanyeol inside.</p>
<p>The interior appears to be a repair shop of sorts. At the center of the room is a large table covered in metal scraps, pieces of gadgets, screw drivers, and spare parts. Ice-blue lights cast a cool glow and cold ambience to the room. Chanyeol has heard of these places — independent shops run under the radar, offering dupes of the latest gadgets for only a week’s savings. This is immensely cheap compared to the Consulate-sponsored products, for which Proles can spend a lifetime laboring and never afford. The Consulate has cracked down on these independent shops, afraid that any technology developed without supervision might be used against the government. No wonder this place was so hard to find.</p>
<p>The man pulls forward a stool and motions for Chanyeol to sit.</p>
<p>“I’m Jongdae, the owner of this place. You had questions?”</p>
<p>Chanyeol nods, reaches in his back pocket and pulls out the one photograph of Baekhyun that he has. “Has this person stopped by in the past few days?”</p>
<p>Jongdae takes the photograph from him and stares. Chanyeol thinks he sees Jongdae’s eyebrows raise briefly. “No, I have not,” he says after a few moments, handing the photograph back.</p>
<p>“Are you certain?” Chanyeol asks. He’s sure that he saw something there, some flicker in recognition when Jongdae’s eyebrows lifted.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Jongdae responds firmly. A little too firmly. He looks agitated, jaw clenched with force.</p>
<p>“Perhaps there was a young man who stopped by in the middle of the night two nights ago?”</p>
<p>Jongdae narrows his eyes. “How do you — we keep all customer information classified, sir.”</p>
<p>Perfect. The change from denial to avoidance confirms that Baekhyun came here for sure.</p>
<p>“What did he order?” Chanyeol presses further. He figures that with persistence and feigned confidence, perhaps he can chip away at Jongdae’s barriers.</p>
<p>“Sir, I cannot disclose any information.”</p>
<p>It’s brief. Almost unnoticeable for the untrained eye. A slight sideways glance at a small bench to their right. An android head sits atop the bench, lifelike but soulless. A thin chain stretches across its face, the center of the chain resting delicately on its nose bridge and the ends tucked behind its ears.</p>
<p>Chanyeol needs a change of plans. Questioning Jongdae won’t give him any relevant information. Hell, Jongdae probably doesn’t even know Baekhyun’s name, let alone his home location. Chanyeol does know one thing however — Baekhyun will undoubtedly return soon to retrieve his gadget. And Chanyeol will be waiting for him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chanyeol is accustomed to discomfort. His legs no longer ache despite holding up his weight for hours on end. Hunger is second nature, just a dull sensation that he can tuck into the back of his mind. Two days have passed since he started hiding behind the other side of the dumpster, awaiting Baekhyun’s arrival. Even the stench of rotten food has faded, mixing with his own body odor.</p>
<p>Several people have gone in and out of Jongdae’s repair shop, but none have carried the same platinum hair that makes Baekhyun stand out from many other Koryo citizens. Patience as a virtue has never been a truer statement.</p>
<p>Other Hunters would ridicule Chanyeol’s approach to hunting. Other Hunters like their missions to be quick, ruthless deaths. Sudden disappearances, bloody if need-be, and they do not care if they harm the innocent along the way.</p>
<p>But Chanyeol is not like other Bounty Hunters. He goes slow and thorough. He waits to learn about his enemy — understand his enemy — before he makes the kill. Perhaps it is a weakness of his. Sometimes, he ponders, what if he lets the target go? What if he pretends that his target has been killed?</p>
<p>But in the end, he remembers his duty and always completes it, albeit with tears stinging his eyes. It isn’t easy. He does not want it to be this way, he wishes his kills are easy and fast, but he cannot help it. He cannot bear to kill without thought, without struggle. He’s afraid that he’ll lose his humanity.</p>
<p>Chanyeol is on the verge of slipping out of consciousness when he sees <em>him</em>. Despite the mask that the figure wears, Chanyeol cannot mistake that platinum hair, which is the same color as the full moon hanging in the light-polluted sky. Baekhyun slips into Jongdae’s repair shop without a sound.</p>
<p>Chanyeol’s heartbeat reverberates through his ears as he waits. He is not sure what to expect, and he does not have a concrete master-minded plan. All he knows is that he needs to gather more information first.</p>
<p>Time seems to fly by. Baekhyun is back out much sooner than he expects. The sudden opening of Jongdae’s door catches him off guard, but he’s quick to regain his Hunting mentality. <em>Calm</em>. Chanyeol holds his breath to artificially slow down his heartbeat. He waits until Baekhyun is at the other end of the alley before he sneaks out of his hiding spot.</p>
<p>In the outskirts of the Fourth District, the neon city lights cannot be seen. Chanyeol must rely on the dim and yellowed streetlights, the faint moonlight, and the hazy glow of light pollution to make his way through the streets, hiding behind nooks and structures whenever possible.</p>
<p>Baekhyun almost glides when he moves, swift and agile as he makes sudden turns to avoid busier streets. It looks as though he’s hiding from something too.</p>
<p>Chanyeol wonders what Baekhyun may be hiding from. Consulate surveillance cameras? Koryo citizens? Perhaps everything. Chanyeol knows the feeling too well, the desire to just disappear without a trace.</p>
<p>The city glow grows farther and farther away. He tries his best to mentally record the route they are on, but at some point, distinctive landmarks vanish, and the same dark slums scatter the streets. Knowing that he will have to retrace his path, he turns on his location tracker.</p>
<p>They must be out of the Fourth District by now. It is his first time stepping into the Fifth District, and the contrast is stark. The air is characterized by a distinctive stench, like a mixture of sewage and rusty metal. It’s oddly quiet. The lack of noise and lights is unsettling.</p>
<p>He has heard many stories about the slums that the Outcasts live in. Some say that the stories are false, and that the Outcasts’ living conditions are no different than the Proles. The more popular belief is that Outcasts have no homes at all, that they live under bridges and in the sewers, that they are more rat-like than human.</p>
<p>Walking through the Fifth District, he notices that the standard of living is somewhere at the intersection of the two stereotypes. While the Outcasts are not homeless, the homes that they do have are mere slums, made from large metal scraps, parts of trucks, and broken-down freight containers. The rooftops are tattered and unstable. No doubt, rain leaks through them. But what catches his eye most is not what is there, but what <em>isn’t</em> — color. Although it’s dark and hard to make out color, Chanyeol can tell that even in the daylight, everything is gray. From the dirt-covered streets to the tattered roofs, it’s like a monochrome filter has been applied to his vision.</p>
<p>Something inside of Chanyeol twists. Maybe it is his proximity to the slums, seeing them in person, that removes some of the cognitive dissonance that he once held. The idea that this could have been his own life if he never immediately took on two jobs after his mother’s collapse haunts him. Those cold, damp nights when he could not pay the bills are only a fraction of what the Outcasts experience, and Chanyeol doesn’t think he could ever survive out here. Though his heart wrenches, an admiration for the Outcast’s courage blossoms within him.</p>
<p>At last, miles into the Fifth District, Chanyeol follows Baekhyun around a corner. The latter approaches a hovel that looks identical to all the rest, except for an unlit lantern that hangs right in front of the entrance door. How strategic for Baekhyun to locate here, far from the Consulate’s headquarters, where no elite government member wants to step.</p>
<p>Right before Baekhyun enters his home, he stops in his tracks. By instinct, Chanyeol ducks behind a hovel. His foot rubs against the gravel ever so slightly, but against the silence of the night, the sound of rocks sliding beneath his shoes is loud.</p>
<p>He’s done for. Holding his breath, he prays that by some miracle, Baekhyun did not hear him.</p>
<p>Thirty seconds pass. A minute. At last, he lets go of his breath and peaks around the wall of the hovel. Nobody is there. Baekhyun is gone, but the lantern now glows orange, the only spot of color Chanyeol has seen since entering the Fifth District.</p>
<p>He got lucky, but next time he will need to be more careful. He winces as exhaustion catches up to him, adrenaline rush gone.</p>
<p>For now, he deserves a break. As he turns around and starts on his trek home, the morning rays begin to peak out from the horizon. A sudden desire to stay fills him; he cannot remember the last time he saw the sun instead of layers of smog that choke the sky. But even stronger than his irrational whim to stay in Fifth District is the tempting comfort of his own bed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Any progress?”</p>
<p>“I’ve found his home location, sir.” Chanyeol cranes his neck to look up at Jongwoon. Chanyeol is sure that it is a scare tactic for him to be forced to sit in a chair as Jongwoon walks circles around him — a way for Jongwoon to establish perceptual dominance. Bile builds up in the back of his throat.</p>
<p>“Good,” Jongwoon grins. “I trust you on this. Remember, Chanyeol. Baekhyun is dangerous. Do not be persuaded otherwise. Understand?”</p>
<p>Chanyeol nods.</p>
<p>“I said, understand?”</p>
<p>“Yes. I understand, sir.”</p>
<p>“Perfect. Keep in mind how much money you will receive when you succeed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“ID please?”</p>
<p>Chanyeol sticks out his left arm. The android security guard grasps his wrist and hovers a scanning device over his forearm. The square chip inside his forearm glows white.</p>
<p>“Welcome, Park Chanyeol, to Exordium.” The android opens the heavy black entrance door and ushers him inside.</p>
<p>Immediately, Chanyeol’s spirit leaves his body. Deep-bass electro pop pounds through his eardrums and enters his bloodstream. Neon turquoise and magenta lights string the border between the wall and the ceiling, giving an out-of-body experience that focuses less on visual imagery and more on the four other senses. Ordinary Proles, of course, are not allowed, but entrance to the Third District’s facilities is one of the privileges of being a Bounty Hunter. Body-coverage is clearly not a requirement for access to Exordium — people flaunt bare legs, cleavage, and rock-solid abs. Chanyeol navigates through a flood of sex workers and intoxicated people before he finally reaches a quieter corner of the club.</p>
<p>“Sorry I’m late. Line was really long.” He slides into a sleek two-person booth.</p>
<p>“No worries.”</p>
<p>“It’s been a while.” Chanyeol smiles with nostalgia, without taking his eyes off the man sitting across from him. He’s missed that cold, lifeless gaze. “I’ve missed your face.”</p>
<p>“You’re so sappy,” Sehun remarks without breaking his stoic expression. “But I’ve missed you too. Honestly, I’m surprised you still remembered to come.”</p>
<p>“Of course I remembered,” Chanyeol says, slightly offended at Sehun’s comment. They agreed four years ago that every year on the Fall Equinox they would meet at the same booth of Exordium and catch up. Contact is difficult otherwise. The Consulate has access to all network communication channels, and in-person contact is nearly impossible given the nature of their jobs. “So, what have you been up to?”</p>
<p>“You know, same old government stuff,” Sehun shrugs. “Not much to be honest. If someone had told me that working for the Consulate was this boring, I would have just stayed in the factories.”</p>
<p>That same school year Chanyeol dropped out of school, Sehun graduated with the highest score on the final exam. Sehun was given the opportunity to work for the Consulate and, like anyone else would, he took it with no hesitation. There was a time when Chanyeol was upset, angry, and jealous that Sehun stole what he thought belonged to him. But now he felt pride. His best friend deserved it.</p>
<p>“They still got you running errands?” Chanyeol asks.</p>
<p>“Yeah. You’d think that after a couple of years they’d give me something more important.” Sehun pauses and motions to a nightclub server dressed as a revealing school girl. “I’d like the Typhoon Ecstasy with an extra shot of vodka.” He takes her hand and places a kiss on it.</p>
<p>She giggles. “What would you like, sir?” The server draws out her syllables as she turns to Chanyeol, placing a hand on his shoulder.</p>
<p>Chanyeol shakes her off. “I’m good, thanks.” He has always felt uncomfortable by the excessive physical intimacy that characterizes the Third District’s night clubs.</p>
<p>“Wow, Chanyeol. You’re the same as always, always so physically distant,” Sehun teases. “Actually, at work they started assigning me some basic coding projects. Not much, but it’s progress.</p>
<p>“Interesting. Like what?”</p>
<p>“Honestly, I have no idea. But I heard some of the higher-ups talking about how they want to increase security measures for the Interwebs. As if they don’t already have enough of a firewall,” Sehun explains and furrows his brows.</p>
<p>“Is there a reason why they want more security?” Chanyeol inquires, hiding his concern behind a steady voice. What if they are onto him? They couldn’t be, right?</p>
<p>“See, that’s the thing. They tell us to do things but never specify why.” Sehun leans in closer to Chanyeol and lowers his voice. “But I think it has to do with cyberattacks from Usonia.”</p>
<p>“Usonia?” Chanyeol raises his eyebrows. Usonia, the nation across the Paxium Ocean, was Koryo’s rival in the technology race of the Old Era. But Koryo won, and Usonia now is always straggling one step behind on new technological developments. “Why?”</p>
<p>“You know how they are. They’ve always been jealous of us, and now their only way to catch up is to steal information. Fucking Westerners,” Sehun retorts.</p>
<p>Chanyeol nods, but with only partial interest. He’s more relieved over the fact that there has been no sign that the Consulate has caught him — yet.</p>
<p>The server returns with a glass of cyan liquid and Sehun tucks a dollar in her butt pocket.</p>
<p>“But enough about me. How are you doing?” Sehun questions.</p>
<p>“I have a new assignment. He’s a difficult one.” Chanyeol stops, questioning if he ought to tell Sehun about the details. On the one hand, Sehun is his trusted friend and may even have insider information on Baekhyun. On the other hand, who knows the potential consequences if the Consulate ever finds out that he has been disclosing target names? He instead opts for a tangentially-related conversation: “Hey, do you know anything about clone experiments done in 2149?”</p>
<p>Sehun’s eyes widen before his face darkens. “How do you know about those?”</p>
<p>“I read about them in my assignment report. Why? Did something happen?”</p>
<p>Sehun bites his lips, thick brows once again pulled together, seeming to ponder whether he should continue or not. He eventually gives in. “Fuck. Chanyeol, you cannot tell a soul about what I’m going to tell you now. There’s a reason the Consulate wants to bury the 2149 clone experiments, and why it has not been taught by any class in school.”</p>
<p>Chanyeol knew it. The Consulate has intentionally buried information on the 2149 experiments, and subsequently on Byun Baekhyun. Instead of deterring Chanyeol, his curiosity only grew. “Then how did you find out about it?”</p>
<p>“I wasn’t supposed to find out. I overheard some of the higher ups talking about it one day, but they went silent as soon as they noticed I was there. I knew something was fucked up. I tried to do some research. Nothing. Not a mention of it on the Interwebs.”</p>
<p>The Consulate, though it censors a lot of information, loves to brag about scientific and technological breakthroughs, as a showoff to other nations. So, the 2149 experiments must have been a failure…</p>
<p>He gulps, curiosity sucked away by a black hole. This assignment is getting much more complicated than he would like. He should back out before he involves himself further. But he can’t. The reward is too good to pass. <em>Focus on the reward, Chanyeol</em>, he tells himself. <em>Focus</em>.</p>
<p>“So, I turned toward another source,” Sehun continues. “Remember that one hidden bookstore in the Fourth District marketplace?”</p>
<p>“Huh?” Chanyeol glanced up with a confused expression. How did Sehun find out about that?</p>
<p>“Don’t lie and tell me you did not go there. I randomly found that place one day and the old man there asked if you were going to return.”</p>
<p>“Okay, yeah you’re right. I remember,” Chanyeol replies as realization dawns on him. No wonder Sehun got so smart suddenly in the last year of school. Chanyeol loves his friend, but everyone was astounded that Sehun graduated at the top of the class. Books are truly a miracle.</p>
<p>“Well, I went back. I searched that whole fucking place until I found the right book. I still don’t know how that book got there considering that most books were destroyed a hundred years go, but the experiments were done only twenty-seven years ago. But anyway, the experiments were — fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”</p>
<p>“Hey, if you can’t tell me then don’t. I don’t want you to get endangered because of this.”</p>
<p>“No, no. It’s alright. I’m just still in shock to this day. Basically, the Consulate decided it was a wonderful idea to create a bunch of bioengineered clones as a part of a superhuman army to quell dissent and use in warfare. They changed the brain chemistry of those clones, who were <em>children</em> by the way.”</p>
<p>Chanyeol frowns. “Did they have any special abilities? And why children?”</p>
<p>“They needed children so they could control their minds since they were born or created or whatever. They had enhanced speed, strength, and sense. They also had a special force that had nature manipulation powers. It was <em>weird</em>.</p>
<p>“But there was an error in the experiment. Some of the children started to go ‘rogue’ and develop human emotions. They started to realize what was really going on and began to target the Consulate.”</p>
<p>“Why did they target the Consulate?” Chanyeol asks, voice going up an octave in anxiety.</p>
<p>“Honestly, I’m not surprised that they did. Those experiments were fucked up. The book didn’t disclose the full details, but one of their training simulations was putting a child in a pen full of starving wolves until the child killed all of them with just a knife.</p>
<p>“What the hell. How was this allowed?”</p>
<p>“The Consulate and their scientists can do whatever they want, you know that.”</p>
<p>“I know, but… I didn’t think they would do something like this.” Chanyeol has always learned that the Consulate’s developments are benevolent, enhancing the lived experience for Koryo citizens. The Exodia humanoid robots are a prime example — it takes care of household chores and allows Koryo citizens to spend more time at work, with family, and with friends. He has difficulty connecting the Consulate to such treacherous acts mentioned in the 2149 experiments. He doesn’t want to believe the veracity of Sehun’s statements.</p>
<p>A tear drips down and lands on his hand. He blinks rapidly, trying to dry his eyes. This is silly. Why should he be crying over this? Deep down in his chest, he aches. He feels betrayed, somehow. Like, maybe a lot more than he knows is a lie. But is it a lie, or is the Consulate just hiding a negative part of its past? He can’t tell who he should be blaming — the Consulate for always promoting a facade of benignity, or himself for his credulity.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know. I get you, trust me, I do. I work for and with those people every day. Yet except for that one time, I haven’t heard a peep about those experiments.” Sehun’s sympathy quickly turns into concern. “But why do you ask?”</p>
<p>Why did he ask? Oh right. <em>Baekhyun has enhanced genetics resulting from the Consulate’s past clone experiments from 2149</em>. Baekhyun was one of those children. Not only was he one of those children, he was a part of the special force. Enhanced genetics. Light manipulation. Chanyeol’s jaw clenches and his fingernails dig into his palms.</p>
<p>
  <em>Focus on the reward. </em>
</p>
<p>At that moment, Chanyeol considers telling Sehun about Baekhyun. It feels right, to trade one secret for another, to alleviate some of the pressure and fear he feels. What Sehun told him was not easy to spill, and it demonstrates how much his friend trusts him. However, it’s <em>because</em> his friend cares so much about him that he decides not to tell. With Sehun’s knowledge of how dangerous those experiments are, he would no doubt convince Chanyeol to terminate the assignment. But Chanyeol can’t afford to do that.</p>
<p>So Chanyeol answers, “Nothing. It was only mentioned briefly in the assignment report and I was curious. It’s not very applicable though.”</p>
<p>Sehun takes Chanyeol’s hand and squeezes. “Chanyeol, if something is off, you better tell me about it. Don’t go stepping into unneeded danger. Don’t get fucked.”</p>
<p>Chanyeol squeezes back. “I won’t.”</p>
<p>They don’t return to the topic after that. For now, Chanyeol wants to push it as far to the back of his mind as possible. After all, it’s only once a year that he gets to see his best friend. And though he is not much of a dancer, Sehun is the only one who can convince him to get drunk enough to enjoy the dance floor.</p>
<p>He can’t remember how many bodies rub against his, how many unsolicited touches or the amount of grinding that takes place. All he knows is that the music takes over his heartbeat, and the alcohol over his senses. It’s easier that way, to let go for a while. To live a little, if you can even call it living.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chanyeol considers himself fortunate enough to live in an era in which hangovers are a relic of the past. One serving of The Party Pill and in ten minutes, his headache fades and he’s as energized as ever.</p>
<p>Following his location tracker, the trek to Baekhyun’s home in the Fifth District is shorter than he remembers. The sun has just begun its rise when he arrives at the home with a glowing lantern. The sun stains the sky in a rosy pink shade, like the clouds are blushing.</p>
<p>But Chanyeol doesn’t have long to stare at the sight around him. He spots a figure dressed in all black slipping out of the front door. Chanyeol, perched nimbly on a fragile rooftop, waits until the figure reaches the other end of the street before he hops off the roof. He has learned, with practice and repetition, how to move with silence.</p>
<p>Baekhyun takes him down a winding path through the residential areas of the Fifth District. The rebel, just like two nights ago, moves quickly and smoothly, not wasting a single movement. Chanyeol follows behind, just enough distance to prevent himself from being noticed without losing sight of his target — a skill that he has perfected in his years as a Hunter.</p>
<p>They reach another narrow alleyway, much like the one where Jongdae’s repair shop is located. This time, however, the building Baekhyun enters is more visible: a three-story concrete building, plain, lacking any exterior decorations or labels. The building is inconspicuous, blending into the dreary background of other gray architecture. Colorless, lifeless. Such a contrast to the vibrant, attention-grabbing billboards, flashy advertisements, and populated streets of the inner city, where the Second District is located. And though Chanyeol has always been accustomed to an environment of in-your-face saturation, he finds the plainness of the Fifth District pleasant. A break that he did not know he needed.</p>
<p>For about half an hour, he waits for Baekhyun to come out again. When this does not happen, Chanyeol deems it safe for him to enter.</p>
<p>The first room he enters is empty. Through the doorway without a door, another empty room sits, this time much larger than the first. The ominous silence envelops him, as if echoing and reverberating against the stone walls. That is all there is to the first floor. Interesting. His guards flip on, ready to defend against any unexpected events. Where could Baekhyun have gone?</p>
<p>There must be some place that leads to the second floor of the building. He heads back to the first room. What he initially dismissed as a closet door in the back of the first room opens without a lock, and with satisfaction, he finds a stairwell.</p>
<p>It is the kind of dingy stone stairwell found in run-down buildings built decades ago. The kind where footsteps on the first floor echoes all the way to the top. But Chanyeol is not like most people; his feet collide against the concrete but do not emit any sound, like he’s weightless. He has mastered the precise allocation of pressure, even without slowing his gait to a snail’s pace.</p>
<p>The first thing he notices when he enters the third floor is the pungent smell of body odor that hits his face. Like the first floor, he walks past a smaller room first before reaching his desired destination.</p>
<p>There are about two dozen people in the large room, none of whom pay attention to the tall stranger standing in the doorway. They are all occupied with themselves — some panting on broken bicycles glued to the floor, some lifting heavy metal rods, others training with makeshift punching bags that hang from the ceiling. It’s a gym, or rather, a training room of sorts.</p>
<p>At last, Chanyeol spots a slim figure with platinum hair in the back. But Baekhyun is not alone. A guy of much bigger stature, with tattoos wrapping around his thick, muscular arms, circles around Baekhyun in what appears to be a boxing ring. Chanyeol’s eyes widen as the muscular guy throws a sturdy, quick punch. But Baekhyun is faster; in one smooth motion, he grabs the other guy’s wrist, twists, and his opponent slams onto the ring canvas with a heavy <em>thud</em>.</p>
<p>The guy does not get up after that out of his own will. Instead, Baekhyun pulls him — drags him — up, but he immediately collapses on his knees when Baekhyun lets go, and he crawls off the ring.</p>
<p>Chanyeol stands in the doorway for a while, unmoving. He watches another person step into the ring, someone taller and brawnier than the previous guy. Time seems to slow as Baekhyun and his opponent circle each other, both unwilling to make the first move. But while his opponent’s stance is tense, Baekhyun carries a calm demeanor. At last, his opponent takes initiative. A right-side kick to the ribs this time, but before the foot makes impact, Baekhyun’s left hand catches the guy’s ankle while his right arm grabs the back of the calf. It’s fast, way too fast. Baekhyun’s hair whips through the air as he throws his opponent by the leg, and the poor guy flies through the ring ropes and tumbles onto the concrete floor.</p>
<p>It’s almost laughable when a third person enters the ring. A punch. Baekhyun dodges. His opponent, a woman, grabs his shoulder from behind. He ducks, turns to face her, and knocks her arm away. For just a moment, she stands there stunned. But even a moment is too long. He socks her in the stomach. She bends over coughing, but she’s persistent — another punch, he deflects. She lunges forward, Baekhyun grabs her hair and pulls down, then knees her in the neck. Like a wooden puppet, she crumples.</p>
<p>By watching, Chanyeol learns a few things about Baekhyun. First, is the extent of Baekhyun’s physical aptitude. Seeing Baekhyun in action, <em>in person</em>, puts everything into a new perspective. Baekhyun may be small, but he moves faster and stronger than humanly possible. A product that only gene manipulation can achieve.</p>
<p>Second, he never initiates the first move. He’s patient, calculative, always waiting for the opportunity to catch his opponent off guard. That way, he transforms defensive moves into offensive ones.</p>
<p>Third, Baekhyun has no mercy. All opponents he treats the same, regardless of gender, age, or size. Perhaps it is a sign of rudeness. Or perhaps, it demonstrates that he values all opponents equally, not estimating a woman less than a man.</p>
<p>And lastly, Baekhyun will be much harder of a target than Chanyeol expected.</p>
<p>Baekhyun fights and trains for hours yet doesn’t seem to lose his breath or break out into a sweat. Chanyeol eventually chooses to blend in with the other people, hopping around different stations, but always keeping an eye on Baekhyun. Chanyeol analyzes the way he moves, tries to memorize his techniques, and find patterns in his combat. But ultimately, one question tugs in the back of his mind — Baekhyun, <em>who are you?</em></p>
<p>It’s around noon by the time they leave. Baekhyun walks out of the building like he’s exiting a coffee shop — too satisfied, too calm, and too energized for someone who just spent all morning doing one-on-one combat.</p>
<p>He heads home, probably for lunch, and is out again in an hour. Though he is still dressed in all black, this time a mask shields his face from the nose down.</p>
<p>On another gray street, to Chanyeol’s eyes indistinguishable from the one from this morning, Baekhyun enters a side door of a dilapidated building and Chanyeol follows. Similarly, the first floor is deceptively empty. Downstairs, however, opens to a hubbub of noise and energy — groups of people chat around wooden tables in a dimly-lit basement-turned-tavern, words slurred and faced red from alcohol. It’s the Fifth District version of Exordium, certainly not as luxurious, but serving a similar entertainment function.</p>
<p>At the same time, this place is different. There are no neon lights. There are no servers dressed as school girls, no physical intimacy, no out-of-body experiences. People are dressed in everyday clothes instead of flashy, garish outfits. There is <em>life</em> here, Chanyeol realizes. Exordium always left him uncomfortable, but he could never pinpoint the source of that discomfort. But now, as he slides behind a table in the corner of the tavern, it hits him how natural people’s interactions are here. Is this what the Old Era was like?</p>
<p>For a moment, he loses track of Baekhyun. Gone are his ruminations of what life might have been like in the Old Era, and instead he’s filled with a frantic frenzy, a fear that he might have lost his target. When his eyes finally land on a flash of platinum, he breathes a sigh of relief. Moving closer might be a wise decision.</p>
<p>Chanyeol sips on a beer and plays his watching game.</p>
<p>From what he has witnessed so far, Baekhyun is a solitary character. Not that Chanyeol is judging — he doesn’t have many friends either, and he rarely spends time with the few that he does have. So, he’s caught off guard when Baekhyun sits down at a large table where every seat is occupied. And he does a complete double take when Baekhyun begins to <em>talk</em> to the group.</p>
<p>Despite his effort straining his ears, Chanyeol only catches a few words here and there. “Port Jesan… drones… disruption… Consulate imports…” He frowns. Dissent, sedition, or violent insurrection — whatever this is, it cannot be good.</p>
<p>After giving up on trying to make random snippets of sentences make coherent sense, he resorts to visual tactics. It’s equally fascinating and scary how much you can learn through simple observation. The minor facial shifts, smiles that don’t quite reach the eyes, tenseness as a correlation to discomfort, and more.</p>
<p>Perhaps this is the reason Chanyeol is so good at hiding his emotions: the fear that this skill can be used against him. It terrifies him how a slip in expression can reveal the most dangerous secrets.</p>
<p>For the first time, Chanyeol gets a good look at his target.</p>
<p>There is something powerful about the way Baekhyun presents himself. He carries a stance like that of royalty. Back straight, head high, movements exuding confidence. Although he’s both slim and short, one can tell that he has strength, the type of strength that’s showcased at the most unexpected moments.</p>
<p>He’s always alert. It’s just hardly noticeable the way Baekhyun’s eyes dart to the next person speaking barely after they open their mouth, the way his ears perk up at background noises. And those eyes. A deep turquoise that turns ice blue when it catches the light. Unnatural, yet beautiful.</p>
<p>Unnatural yet beautiful — isn’t this what Koryo fundamentally is? At least the First and Second Districts, where the wealthy Establishment and the Consulate live. Plastic faces and bodies, technological body parts, extravagant and saturated clothing, holograms that mimic the Old Era’s forested landscapes, all artificial. Like the Exodia robot, with its flawless appearance and too-pleasant temperament, perfect for not only chores but an unspoken sexual fantasy. But Chanyeol doesn’t blame them. Unnatural yet beautiful makes life so much easier.</p>
<p>Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s getting to Chanyeol’s brain (hence why he doesn’t <em>usually</em> drink while Hunting), but he has a feeling that Baekhyun’s eyes are only unnatural because they are a product of the Consulate. Otherwise, the Fifth District so far is the most natural place he has seen in Koryo, and Chanyeol has learned to appreciate this new kind of beauty.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chanyeol cannot believe that he is doing this. In what right mind did he decide that this would be a good idea? Usually his Hunting plans are much more thorough — do not approach the target, leave no trace of involvement, and <em>try</em> not to get too personally attached to the target. The latter has always been the hardest to follow; it’s hard to not care when you know someone better than they know themselves. However, he has not broken the first rule… until now.</p>
<p>Baekhyun is a difficult puzzle to solve. Too little information, too much danger, and too large of a prize looming over his head means Chanyeol <em>should </em>be much more planned out than he is, but the truth is the opposite. This is a bad idea, but a bad idea is better than no ideas… right?</p>
<p>He’s not too sure about that as he watches Baekhyun gracefully leap over the boxing ring ropes, biceps flexing under a black skin-tight long sleeve. Chanyeol peers down at his own thin arms, and while at first glance, he doesn’t appear weaker than Baekhyun, the knowledge that he doesn’t have superhuman abilities worries him. If people with limbs twice as large as his were pummeled by Baekhyun, how does he stand a chance?</p>
<p>Chanyeol glances forward and is caught by those mesmerizing blue eyes. Baekhyun doesn’t give him time to be entranced. The rebel lifts his eyebrows as if to signal, “ready?” At that moment, Chanyeol is about to back out, but a quick reminder of <em>focus on the reward</em> keeps his feet firm in the boxing ring.</p>
<p>They begin to circle each other like hawks watching their prey. Neither of them makes a sound, and for Chanyeol, all background noises dissolve. The silence is painful, ready to burst, but neither of them are willing to pop the bubble.</p>
<p>Chanyeol grows aware of the juxtaposition between them two. Perspiration beads up on his forehead, but his fingers tremble with an unpleasant chilliness. His ready position is unprofessional, self-taught from a limited number of Hunting assignments that required combat, which is always a last resort. On the other hand, Baekhyun looks so calm. Like he’s made to fight. Legs bent at the correct angle to give him both launching power and defense.</p>
<p>To make it out uninjured, he will have to do something unpredictable, Chanyeol thinks. Remember, Baekhyun never makes the first move. Chanyeol wonders, can he change that?</p>
<p>He flinches — a false punch that he quickly draws back. Sure enough, Baekhyun lifts an arm to guard against it, but it’s not the offensive move that Chanyeol desires. He takes another false swing, a larger one. This time, Baekhyun’s right arm shoots out and grabs his wrist, then Baekhyun’s left arm clamps down and locks his forearm in a tight grip.</p>
<p>Panic seeps into Chanyeol’s nerves. Would the fight end this soon? Would he be lying on the ground outside the boxing ring in two seconds? In desperation, he grabs onto the first thing he can see. His free hand yanks down on Baekhyun’s hair, and at the moment this catches Baekhyun by surprise, Chanyeol twists, and his arm comes out free.</p>
<p>Chanyeol’s victory is short-lived. Baekhyun quickly regains his posture, carrying a penetrating fierceness in his eyes. He throws a hit at Chanyeol’s side.</p>
<p>Baekhyun is fast, but Chanyeol is fast too. The latter steps backward and Baekhyun’s knuckles graze the fabric of his shirt. Although Chanyeol does not know much about how to knock someone out, through his years as a Hunter, he has learned how to dodge. Previously, he was always against Hunting targets much stronger than him. Instead of relying on pure strength, he learned to take advantage of his slimness and speed to tire out his opponents, before using a fatal weapon.</p>
<p>The next move, Baekhyun aims a kick at his knees. Chanyeol jumps before Baekhyun’s leg makes contact.</p>
<p>By now, Baekhyun’s eyes are raving like a turbulent hurricane, glowing like a fire run awry. Time seems to speed up. In the blink of an eye, Baekhyun disappears from in front of his eyes. Realization dawns on Chanyeol when he feels an icy grip on his shoulder. He is yanked backward, then Baekhyun’s hand circles around to his chest and shoves. Chanyeol goes flying into the ropes. He bounces off like a piece of rubber, flimsy and unwieldy, and lands back inside the ring on his hands and knees.</p>
<p>A sharp pain tears across his back where the ropes made contact. His vision blurs at the edges. There’s no bleeding, but he feels as though his bones have been rattled and misplaced. It’ll be difficult to walk after this. Yet, he sums up every ounce of energy and willpower he has left. Knees shaking, he holds onto the ropes to lift himself back up.</p>
<p>Before Chanyeol can fully return to fighting position, Baekhyun lands a kick to his stomach, strong enough to shoot him over the ring ropes. With a <em>thump</em>, he lands back first onto the concrete ground.</p>
<p>Chanyeol’s mouth opens to gasp for air, but nothing happens. His chest remains deflated. Stars begin to dance across his vision, turning the ceiling lights into a bokeh. His skin crawls and lungs begin to burn, like hundreds of fire ants biting his chest. The desire to claw at his throat, to jump into ice water, to make this all <em>stop</em> is overwhelming — yet he doesn’t even have the strength to move his arms.</p>
<p>Maybe this is the end, he thinks. The training room background noise fades. It would be ironic if he died now, at the hands of his target, in the least graceful way possible. This entire situation would be funny if he was not the one suffering through it. But perhaps this ending wouldn’t be so bad. At least it would be quick, bloodless, sans suffering from watching his loved ones all die and the illnesses of old age biting at his ankles. No more Hunting. No more killing other people for money. Maybe this is even a good thing. Chanyeol gets ready to close his eyes and almost accept his fate —</p>
<p>His eyes shoot wide open as a sudden jerk of his arm almost dislocates his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Hey, you good?”</p>
<p>Chanyeol blinks. His vision slowly slides back into focus. He’s taken aback when he notices Baekhyun crouched before him. Chanyeol then realizes that he’s sitting now, <em>breathing</em> now, and the hand massaging circles in his back is Baekhyun’s.</p>
<p>“I said, are you good?” Baekhyun asks again.</p>
<p>“Is that for me?” Chanyeol points at the cup Baekhyun’s holding, unconsciously dodging the question.</p>
<p>Baekhyun’s eyes glance at the cup. “This? No, it’s mine.” He scoffs and offers it to Chanyeol. “Kidding. Of course it’s for you.”</p>
<p>“I… I can’t move my arms.”</p>
<p>“Ah, right. My bad, I got carried away,” Baekhyun smirks and Chanyeol wants to wipe it right off his face. “Drink up.”</p>
<p>Baekhyun shifts closer and readjusts so that his hand rests on Chanyeol’s shoulder and his entire arm supports Chanyeol’s back. Chanyeol tilts his head back and Baekhyun brings the cup to his lips. Cool, refreshing water drips down Chanyeol’s throat. The burn soothes down to a faint tingling sensation. He hasn’t felt this great, this rejuvenated in a while.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Chanyeol mutters when he finishes all the water.</p>
<p>“That was really something back there,” Baekhyun ignores his expression of gratitude. “You’ve got moves. I have to say, I’m quite impressed.”</p>
<p>“Me?” Him? Moves? If Baekhyun means getting pummeled and nearly dying, then maybe.</p>
<p>“Yes. Who else?” Baekhyun’s eyes scan him up and down once, before locking with his own gaze. “Not many people can dodge my hits.” Baekhyun leans in, his breath hot on Chanyeol’s neck. “Even less people try to trick me.”</p>
<p>Suddenly, Chanyeol is hyper aware of Baekhyun’s presence. The latter’s mask is now gone, revealing pale porcelain skin that glows pearlescent, without a single blemish. His small pink lips curve into the perfect cupid’s bow. But most captivating of all: the eyes. How long Chanyeol spent observing them from a distance, but now he can finally see them up close.</p>
<p>They are a sky blue now, with bits of azure sprinkled in his irises. Chanyeol wonders, does Baekhyun’s eye color change based on the lighting, or his mood? Chanyeol wants to get lost in them, submerge himself in its blueness and soar among the clouds.</p>
<p>“So, who are you? I’ve never seen you here before.” Baekhyun’s voice pops Chanyeol’s ruminations.</p>
<p>“I—” Chanyeol's head whirls. Should he use a coverup? Does he even need one? “I’m Park Chanyeol. Today is my first day here.” He decides against lying about his name. There is no publicly available information that would give away his identity as a Hunter anyway. And things could get complicated if Baekhyun ever finds out that Chanyeol lied about his name.</p>
<p>“Park Chanyeol…” Baekhyun drags out the last syllable and swirls it around on his tongue.</p>
<p>For a moment, Chanyeol worries that maybe Baekhyun knows something already. Heard rumors, maybe, that there is a Hunter trying to track him down. But Chanyeol lets go of this theory quickly.</p>
<p>“You have potential,” Baekhyun continues. He begins to stroke Chanyeol’s hair. “Chanyeol, I don’t offer this to many — actually, to anyone. So, consider yourself lucky to have piqued my interest. Would you like to train with me?”</p>
<p>“What?” Sweat beads up on Chanyeol’s forehead. The temperature of the room suddenly rises, or maybe it’s just that Baekhyun is way too close to him.</p>
<p>Baekhyun throws his head back and laughs. “I like you, you’re funny. I’ll take your answer as a yes.” He squeezes Chanyeol’s shoulder, stands up, and stretches out a hand to him.</p>
<p>Chanyeol takes it. Jolts of pain shoot through legs as he’s yanked to his feet. He can’t help but feel confused. What has he gotten himself into? But isn’t this what he wanted, a way to get to know Baekhyun better? An excuse to be around him? Yet unease grips his chest, digging into his throat.</p>
<p>“I train every morning from eight AM to twelve PM. I better see you here tomorrow. Or else,” Baekhyun smirks and makes a cutting motion with his thumb over his neck.</p>
<p>Chanyeol just stands there, words stolen from his lips, staring dumbly as Baekhyun draws his fingers through his hair and turns to exit the training room.</p>
<p>He thinks again, what has he gotten himself into?</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him. I think it’s impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves. And then, at that very moment when I love them.... I destroy them.”</p><p>Orson Scott Card, <em>Ender’s Game</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>Chanyeol still remembers his first assignment like it was yesterday. He wishes this isn’t the case. He wants his memory to malfunction, to let that horrific event slip through the cracks of his subconscious.</p><p>He was young. Naive. He followed Do Kyungsoo for only a few days, but that was enough to make Chanyeol impatient. Maybe he needed money fast, but that should not have been an excuse.</p><p>Kyungsoo was about to catch a Driverless Taxi to take his drunken self home. It was chilly that night, winds nipping at Chanyeol’s cheeks, and he remembers how his hands stung when he took them out of his pockets.</p><p>In some unlit alleyway, Chanyeol hurtled a large rock into the back of Kyungsoo’s head. Even after Kyungsoo collapsed to the ground, head hitting the pavement with a <em>crack</em>, Chanyeol picked up the rock and continued to pound. Up, down, <em>thud</em>. Up, down, <em>thud</em>. Until Kyungsoo’s face was no longer recognizable and smeared with hot, scarlet blood. The kill was messy — <em>too</em> messy to use as a model for his later assignments.</p><p>The guilt did not sink in until a week later, after Chanyeol paid half of the money toward rent and the other half to his mother’s hospital bills, after the short-lived victory emptied of any meaning. On his threadbare couch, he lamented for hours. His raspy cries pierced through the white noise of downtown traffic, conveying only a fraction of the deep-set sorrow he felt. He had <em>killed someone</em>. He had voluntarily ended someone’s life for the small hope that his mother might be saved. The unpleasant thought that he needed to do this again for an unknown number of times haunted him.</p><p>What if he became just another ruthless murderer? Killing without thinking, killing for pleasure, any hint of humanity sucked from his soul. His chest tightened. He wanted to retch. Chanyeol is not afraid of many things, but the prospect that he could kill without thought became his biggest fear that day.</p><p>His second assignment, Lee Taemin, was almost the polar opposite. Chanyeol went slow. He even befriended Taemin, really understood him, comprehended his motives. That was why when it came to drive the knife down into his pale, unconscious body, he just couldn’t. His hands trembled as he willed himself to bring it down. But looking at Taemin’s calm expression, he no longer seemed like an enemy. He was just a boy, around the same age as him, with a family who loved him, a family that needed his love. Just a poor boy who was disillusioned by the rigid caste structure set by a small group of elite men. </p><p>It was difficult. Chanyeol had to step back and think of the reward that was at hand. He had to turn Taemin into the enemy. <em>If he lives, my mother won’t</em>, Chanyeol continuously repeated in his head until he believed it to be true. He closed his eyes and plunged the knife down.</p><p>Taemin died without a scream. Just a gurgle of blood that spilled from his lips. The only noise that broke the night was the sound of Chanyeol’s retching mixed with hollow, forlorn cries.</p><p>And so, came the birth of Chanyeol’s three rules of hunting: do not approach the target, leave no trace of involvement, and try not to get too personally attached to the target.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you want to fight?” Baekhyun asks sternly.</p><p>It’s eight AM, and sure enough, Chanyeol decided to return. Not only because he’s afraid of what Baekhyun’s “or else” might mean, but because he’s determined that this would be the best opportunity to understand Baekhyun. Baekhyun is once again dressed in all black, this time with a sleeveless muscle tank that shows off his toned arms. He has quickly adopted the trainer role, taking Chanyeol in like they’ve known each other for a while now.</p><p>“To stay strong?” Chanyeol replies.</p><p>Baekhyun sighs. “You can stay strong through other means, like lifting weights. But why do you want to <em>fight?</em>” He pushes Chanyeol’s chest with his knuckles. “Why do you want to inflict pain? Or maybe you don’t. I, for one, fight to defend — defend what I think is right.”</p><p>“I want to fight to defend myself,” Chanyeol lies smoothly. In reality he fights for money. Or for an optimist, he fights for love.</p><p>“That is an interesting answer. Most people have some external reason to fight, and they fight until death. But that can have complications when the thing you’re fighting for is gone. But for the goal of self-preservation, you cannot die.” He turns to Chanyeol and smirks. “What’s with that look? No one’s going to die here.”</p><p>Chanyeol lets go of the frown he didn’t know he had. “Why does it matter what my reason to fight is?”</p><p>“You sure don’t know much,” Baekhyun chuckles. “The reason you fight dictates <em>how</em> you fight. Do you fight until you kill, or do you fight just enough to run? But let’s not get into existential shit for now. All types of fighting require strength.” He turns to the punching bag. “Hit this.”</p><p>“Just hit it?” Chanyeol asks incredulously. Is this supposed to be a test? He feels ridiculous, dumb even, that he’s never hit a punching bag before.</p><p>“Pretend like it’s your worst nemesis.”</p><p>“No gloves?”</p><p>Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Of course not. When will you ever have gloves when you’re fighting someone for real?”</p><p>Chanyeol gulps. He turns to face the punching bag, pulls his arm back, and throws a large blow. The bag swings far backward. Turning to Baekhyun, he smiles.</p><p>Baekhyun cocks his head and returns an amused look. Confused, Chanyeol thinks maybe his punch wasn’t strong enough.</p><p>Before he can turn the bag again, one hundred pounds of sand crashes into his shoulder. “Shit,” he winces.</p><p>“You have a lot to learn,” Baekhyun comments. “But before I teach you how to properly punch, you need to build up. I can tell you’re fast, but…” He glances disdainfully at Chanyeol’s arm. “As I said, all types of fighting require strength.”</p><p>Chanyeol flushes. When did this turn into a shaming-Chanyeol session? “I thought we were supposed to train together. Not, you know, you train me.”</p><p>“Since when were those mutually exclusive?” Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. “But you’re right. Let’s train together. Let’s warm up with a four-mile run.”</p><p>“Four miles? But aren’t we doing strength training?” Chanyeol hasn’t run a long distance in quite some time. Short sprints, and long walks, he’s an expert in. But he can’t remember when he last had to run for miles. The mere thought nauseates him.</p><p>“Are you talking back to me?” Baekhyun laughs. “Bold. I like it. But remember, Chanyeol, I’ve been here much longer than you have. You need to trust me, okay?” His voice is almost patronizing.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“You need lung strength. Endurance. Four miles is nothing for me now. But it’ll have to do.”</p><p>The first mile isn’t hard. They don’t go too fast either, thank god. Because apparently, sprinting doesn’t help build aerobic endurance. They stay silent, Chanyeol concentrating on keeping his legs up with the treadmill.</p><p>The second mile is a little harder. Still manageable, but not <em>too</em> bad. Until, Baekhyun starts talking.</p><p>“So, Chanyeol. I’ve never seen you around here.”</p><p>“There’s a lot of people you haven’t seen,” Chanyeol grunts.</p><p>“You’re not from here, are you?”</p><p>No response.</p><p>“You know how I know that?” Baekhyun continues. “First, your clothes. No one can afford real workout clothes here.”</p><p>That’s when Chanyeol notices that Baekhyun’s muscle tank is actually a t-shirt with its sleeves torn off. Small pieces of thread hang from where the sleeve was ripped off.</p><p>“Second, your eyes. They have an edge, a fierceness. Like you have hopes and aspirations. People in the Fifth District don’t usually have eyes like yours. I’m right, aren’t I?”</p><p><em>People in the Fourth District don’t either.</em> Instead Chanyeol says, “Yes, I’m from the Fourth District.” There’s no use in lying. Baekhyun is observant. But Chanyeol should have expected this. He should have been more careful to blend in.</p><p>“Why are you here then, Chanyeol?” The way Baekhyun says his name sends shivers down his spine. “Why would you come to the Fifth District of all places?”</p><p>Shit. Does Baekhyun know? He couldn’t though, right? If he does, he would have avoided him by now.</p><p>“Never mind,” Baekhyun chuckles. “We barely know each other; it wouldn’t be smart of you to answer me. I’m sure you’ll tell me whenever you feel comfortable.”</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t respond to that. <em>When I’m comfortable enough, you’ll be dead. </em>He keeps running, legs pumping up and down, trying not to make his breathing too labored. Next to him, Baekhyun looks like he’s on a chill jog.</p><p>By the third mile, Chanyeol breaks into a sweat. His lungs begin to burn and his knees ache. He places his hands on his waist, a trick he learned to open his lungs, but it hardly helps ameliorate the pain.</p><p>Surprisingly, the fourth mile is easier than the third. By now, his legs have numbed to the pain. He pushes the burn in his lungs to the back of his mind. To distract himself, he sneaks a peek at Baekhyun.</p><p>Baekhyun looks almost the same as when he first stepped onto the treadmill. Still even breathing and a calm expression with a slight hint of intrigue. A light sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead and neck, but it looks more like a healthy glow than a sign of exhaustion. Baekhyun catches his eye and Chanyeol quickly turns his head, focusing on the blank concrete wall in front of him.</p><p>When they finally reach four miles and Chanyeol steps off the treadmill, his legs wobble like jello. Knowing how sore they will be tomorrow, he groans.</p><p>“We haven’t gotten to the best part yet,” says Baekhyun. He points to the makeshift dumbbells lined up by weight. “You can start off light. Grab the twenty-pound pair and lift them fifty times. I’ll take the fifty pound one.”</p><p>Chanyeol gawks at how easily Baekhyun lifts fifty pounds in each arm breathlessly. Baekhyun does not appear muscular at all; his arms are comparable to Chanyeol’s in thickness, but when he lifts the dumbbells, his muscles flex underneath a thin layer of skin. Meanwhile, Chanyeol grips his dumbbells with uncertainty.</p><p>“How long have you been coming here?” Chanyeol inquires. He might as well use the time that they spend together learning more about his target.</p><p>“I see how it is. So, you won’t answer my questions, but you expect me to answer yours.”</p><p>“That’s not what I—”</p><p>“I know. I’m just playing with you,” Baekhyun chuckles. “Hm, how long has it been? Ten years? You could say I’m a veteran.”</p><p>“Wow.” No wonder Baekhyun holds himself in the training room with an air of confidence, of dominance. “And you’ve been fighting this whole time?”</p><p>“Please, ten years is nothing,” Baekhyun retorts. “I’ve been fighting my entire life.”</p><p>Ah, that’s right. Chanyeol almost forgot that Baekhyun’s combat lifestyle dates far back. He was born — no, <em>made</em> — to fight. But he doesn’t understand. Why hasn’t Baekhyun stopped?</p><p>“When you said fight to defend what you think is right, what did you mean by that?”</p><p>Baekhyun stops lifting. “You sure have a lot of questions.”</p><p>Chanyeol shuts his mouth at that. He isn’t normally like this. Interacting with his targets is a forbidden redline. Maybe it’s the mystery surrounding Baekhyun, but Baekhyun triggers an unquenched curiosity within him. Every nugget of knowledge he gains opens the door to more unanswered questions.</p><p>Chanyeol inwardly berates himself for this curiosity. His ability to learn facts and motives of his targets through pure observation is one of his proudest traits. But with someone who is more observant, keener, and far more dangerous than he is, he should be careful. Everything seems to be going the opposite of what years of practice have led him to perfect.</p><p>“When are we going to be done with strength building?”</p><p>“Never. Strength building is a process, not a product.”</p><p>Chanyeol decides not to respond. Baekhyun already seems fed up with all his questions, responding in sarcastic tones and cold facial expressions. As soreness builds in his arms, Chanyeol grits his teeth.</p><p>“You can stop now. It’s been way past fifty times.” Baekhyun sets his dumbbells down and Chanyeol follows suit. “We can finally start on what you’ve been anticipating.” He gestures to the punching bag. “How to fight.”</p><p>“But this is a bag.”</p><p>“And? Do you want to get beat up in less than two minutes?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“That’s what I thought. You’re too impatient. You haven’t even got the basics down.” He punches the bag. “You got injured by a bag with no arms, remember?”</p><p>A deep flush warms Chanyeol’s cheeks. He lowers his head.</p><p>“Keep your head up, Chanyeol. Now watch me.” Baekhyun stands about two feet away from the punching bag. As he circles around the punching bag, his arms fold halfway at the elbows so that his forearms run perpendicular to the ground. He then throws a punch, elbows straightening out and becoming parallel to the floor. As the bag swings back toward him, he shuffles backwards, smoothly avoiding a collision. “What do you notice?”</p><p>“Your arms are always up.”</p><p>“Correct. Always keep your arms up, during, before, and after you punch. Now why is that?”</p><p>“To get stronger punches?”</p><p>“Wrong,” Baekhyun spits. “Since when did keeping your arms up ever lead to stronger punches? Stop thinking only in terms of how to take down your opponent. You always need to be on the defense, even when you’re taking offensive actions. Number one rule — always protect yourself. Never let your arms down. The minute you let them fall to your sides, your opponent will use that as a window of opportunity to take a strike. Understand?”</p><p>“Yes,” Chanyeol mutters. Baekhyun is half a head shorter than he is, but suddenly, Chanyeol feels small. The way Baekhyun talks to him reminds him of how a strict parent might talk to a child. Or even how a military commander talks to their soldier — paternalistic with a sense of superiority. It’s obvious that Baekhyun has immense experience.</p><p>Baekhyun nods, looking satisfied. “Good. Now what else did you notice?”</p><p>“You stepped out of the way when the punching bag came back.”</p><p>“I didn’t just step away,” Baekhyun corrects. “I kept on moving. I circled around the bag, leaned into it when I took the punch, and then backed away.” He begins to circle around Chanyeol. “You know there’s that saying, ‘keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ A load of bullshit. You can’t ever get too close or too far when you fight. Too close and you’re dead meat, too far and you’ll never get the chance to make some damage.”</p><p>“But what if you’re too injured to win?”</p><p>Baekhyun narrows his eyes at this question, then he lets out a cold chuckle. “You seem to doubt my abilities. After I teach you how to fight, you will never be in that scenario. You will never lose a fight again. Do you trust me, Chanyeol?”</p><p>Chanyeol nods. A half-lie. He knows that Baekhyun’s tactics are no doubt top-tier. But there will be a day where the two of them will fight, and they can’t both win. The only acceptable outcome is that he wins. Chanyeol <em>must</em> win. And by using his enemy’s strategy against him, the cruelest downfall.</p><p>“Now watch again.” This time, Baekhyun’s arms move in a blur. He punches three times as he shuffles closer to the bag. When the bag swings away from him, he pivots counterclockwise to the other side and continues to strike the bag until it swings toward his original location. “What did I just do?”</p><p>“Instead of letting your arms drop, you punched on the way out.”</p><p>“That’s right. Remember, combine offense and defense. Even when you’re backing away, don’t let your arms drop. But why always be defensive? Hit your opponent when they least expect it. Take every opportunity to make contact when they are caught off guard.” Baekhyun rolls his wrists. “Remember, fighting is less about how big you are and more about how big you think. Never stop thinking of ways you can get an advantage.</p><p>“But why think big? Shouldn’t I be thinking small?”</p><p>Baekhyun frowns. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“What I mean is, I should not always be thinking of how I can fully defeat my opponent. Thinking in terms of how to maximize my advantage is not only about ‘what move will I do to defeat them?’ but more of ‘how can I narrow or widen the gap?’” Chanyeol says with uncertainty. He regrets talking soon after he finishes his sentence.</p><p>Baekhyun squints and chews his lip pondering. “I don’t like to be wrong. But I suppose you’re not incorrect.” He then grins. “You fascinate me more by the minute. But why the fuck are we having a debate about rhetoric? Let’s focus.</p><p>“It’s your turn now. <em>Do not </em>punch the bag yet. Get into position first.”</p><p>“Like this?” Chanyeol bends his knees and lifts his arms up to his chest, imitating to the best of his abilities what Baekhyun looked like.</p><p>“Arms higher.”</p><p>Chanyeol raises his elbows.</p><p>“Too high.”</p><p>Chanyeol lowers them slightly.</p><p>“No,” Baekhyun says curtly. “Here, let me.” He takes hold of Chanyeol’s elbows and shifts them away from Chanyeol’s body. He’s close, so close when he moves onto Chanyeol’s wrists, turning them out and positioning them to the height of Chanyeol’s mouth.</p><p>When Baekhyun finishes, those locations of contact are still warm on Chanyeol’s skin.</p><p>“Can I hit it now?” Chanyeol asks.</p><p>“No. Don’t be so impatient,” Baekhyun chides. “Practice moving around the bag first. Shuffle in, shuffle out, match distance with the bag and practice pivoting around.”</p><p>Chanyeol obeys. He feels silly; while everyone else in the training room is furiously exercising, he’s occupied with moving around a stationary bag. But he doesn’t dare to counter Baekhyun’s demands. Part of it is fear; he’s been testing Baekhyun’s patience nonstop. Part of it is — dare he say — trust. Baekhyun’s words are laced with conviction, enough conviction that it spills out to Chanyeol too.</p><p>They train that way until noon — Baekhyun is not hesitant to make stern corrections and snide remarks as Chanyeol fumbles his way through the countless exercises Baekhyun has planned. Chanyeol forgets that they are supposed to train together, but he doesn’t mind. The attention he receives is almost pleasant; he can learn about Baekhyun from up close.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Chanyeol wakes up with a dull throbbing in his thighs and soreness in his shoulders. However, Baekhyun isn’t sympathetic. They stretch before and after, “just so you don’t injure yourself,” Baekhyun says, but he doesn’t change their workout routine.</p><p>They warm up together, but once Chanyeol memorizes the daily exercises on the punching bag, Baekhyun leaves him to do his own thing. Chanyeol sneaks a peek at Baekhyun occasionally. Baekhyun switches on and off between upper and lower body strength building, but always spends the last hour in the fighting ring.</p><p>“Why do you fight if you always end up winning?” Chanyeol asks on the third day. It seems useless for Baekhyun; the man hardly loses his energy after exiting the ring.</p><p>“How do you know that I will always win?” Baekhyun counters. “Never underestimate your opponents. Arrogance is the biggest weakness in combat. Plus, you’re bold to assume that I’m only here for myself.”</p><p>“What else are you here for?”</p><p>“Too many questions — tsk, tsk.”</p><p>Chanyeol drops the subject.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>By the end of the week, the soreness has numbed away. Just like how he can push away hunger, Chanyeol can tuck away his pain. Bury it away and focus on more pressing issues at hand.</p><p>So, he awakes not with a groan, but a slight jump as he throws his blankets off his body. A week is just enough time to make him more comfortable with venturing into the Fifth District, and not long enough to dull his excitement of training. Each new thing he learns about Baekhyun is like fitting another piece into a puzzle, filling Chanyeol with a rush of excitement.</p><p>When he steps out his door to start on his way to the Fifth District, the device hidden behind his ear beeps.</p><p>
  <em>“Incoming voice message.”</em>
</p><p>Chanyeol presses it and a soothing female voice talks into his right ear.</p><p>“Mr. Park, this is Kim Jongwoon, head of the Consulate’s Domestic Security Bureau. Please meet me in my office in one hour. Do not be late.”</p><p>Chanyeol groans. One hour is hardly enough time to cross the inner city to the First District. He’ll have to get going now.</p><p>Like most Proles, Chanyeol doesn’t have a car. The Fourth District’s streets are too narrow and densely populated to make transport in a vehicle convenient. His daily necessities are all within a few miles away, close enough to walk.</p><p>Though the day has just begun, the streets jostle with people. Most have their heads lowered, concentrating on the ground in front of them. The few faces he does catch carry grim expressions. Garbage litters the sidewalk like a flock of dead birds. It has been there for a week now, no one bothering to pick it up. It’s not like there aren’t street cleaners in Koryo. They just all work for the Second and First Districts.</p><p>A few building signs are still on, flashing names of motels, brothels, and liquor stores. It’s become a habit for some places to keep the lights in their signs on throughout the entire day. The sky is perpetually overcast, blocking the sunlight from reaching the streets. Chanyeol didn’t mind the sky before; it has always been this way since he was born. But now that he’s been to the Fifth District, which is somehow not choking with smog, and witnessed the beauty of how the clouds blush when they are kissed by the sun, the monochrome sky dampens his mood.</p><p>For a normal person it would take half an hour just to walk to the Third District. But for Chanyeol who knows all the shortcuts, it takes him fifteen. The scenery gradually morphs into middle class — the streets are spacious enough for cars, the buildings have been constructed within the last five decades, and the people are clean-shaven and properly dressed.</p><p>In the middle of the Third District down a dingy flight of stairs, he reaches the Link-X subway system. Immediately, he feels unnerved. The ceiling is too low and lights too dim, constantly reminding him that tons of gravel and entire buildings are pressing down upon him. The urgency to escape grips him tight. The fear that there will be an earthquake that entraps him, or a fire that causes everyone to rush to the stairs, trampling people to death. To add to his discomfort, the station is packed to the brim with people. Rush hour. How inconvenient.</p><p>He maneuvers through the crowd and makes his way to a less populous section of the station.</p><p>“Please scan your ID,” a droid standing in front of a turnstile instructs.</p><p>Chanyeol sticks out his left arm and the droid looks at it. Its eyes flash green.</p><p>“Welcome, Park Chanyeol. The Link-X to the Second District will arrive in two minutes.”</p><p>He breathes a sigh of relief when he passes the turnstile. The section of the station that links the Third to the Second District features higher ceilings and brighter lights, creating an illusion that they are inside a building above the ground. Only a handful of people stand in front of the subway doors, waiting. After all, there’s not much reason for someone to transport between the Second and Third Districts — even the upper and middle classes don’t intermingle in Koryo.</p><p>With a chime, the station doors open. He waits for the passengers to get off before stepping aboard the subway. The ride is silent, save for the soft hum of the Link-X whooshing along its magnetic tracks. The other passengers don’t care about his disheveled appearance. They are trapped by their hand-held hologram devices, not even glancing up at their surroundings.</p><p>Five minutes later, an automated voice announces, “We have reached the Second District station. This is the last stop. We hope to see you on Link-X again soon.”</p><p>The station at the Second District is significantly smaller and less used. Its only subway is the one he has just ridden. Yet, this station unnerves him just as much. It’s clean, but too clean. Sterile. Chanyeol doesn’t like things that are unnaturally pristine.</p><p>An elevator takes him to his final route of transport. Linking the Second and First Districts is the X-Rail. The first time he rode it, he figured out why the District never implemented an underground subway system. The X-Rail rides one hundred fifty feet above the ground, transported by tracks that go straight through the inner city. But these aren’t normal tracks. Instead, the X-Rail vehicle is attached underneath its tracks by thick metal loops. Its large glass windows offer a breathtaking view of the inner city. It is simultaneously colorful and monochrome, both serene and hectic. Tall skyscrapers graze the sky, their glass surfaces reflecting silver clouds. But pops of color flash on expansive billboards that advertise Koryo’s latest gadgets. Looking up, the cleanliness and modernity is soothing, but so much is going on down in the streets.</p><p>The X-Rail doesn’t give much time for Chanyeol to appreciate the view. Soon, the city fades behind him as they approach the First District, the home of the Consulate.</p><p>To say the Consulate is cautious would be an understatement. A fifty-foot gate and two dozen droids bar the entrance to the First District. First District residents get an easy pass through — an ID scan is all it takes. But for him, someone who is not a First District resident, or Second, or even Third, it takes a lot for him to be guaranteed entry.</p><p>“What is your name?” The droid asks.</p><p>“Park Chanyeol.”</p><p>“District residence?”</p><p>“Fourth. Don’t you have this information already? You scanned my arm.”</p><p>“We are cross-referencing and confirming that your information is accurate. Who are you visiting?”</p><p>“Kim Jongwoon called for me to meet him.”</p><p>“Please hold tight as we confirm this with Mr. Kim.” The droid makes a call. “Alright Mr. Park, what is your purpose for seeing Mr. Kim today?”</p><p>“He would like to discuss private Consulate matters with me.” This is what Jongwoon told him to say whenever Chanyeol needs to pass through security.</p><p>The droid nods. “Welcome to the First District, Mr. Park. You will find Mr. Kim’s car waiting for you just to the right of the entrance.”</p><p>Chanyeol’s reaction to stepping inside the First District has not changed since his first time. His breath hitches at the sight of an expansive sky, so blue in color that he wants to stretch his hand up to touch it. The sun, no longer shielded by the clouds, immerses everything in a warm glow. There are trees too, with branches that form canopies of jade leaves. He doesn’t want to leave the outside.</p><p>And then he remembers that this is all fake. There is no sky, no sun, no trees. The First District is enveloped in a dome with digital walls that projects an image of the sky. The trees are holographic. One touch and his finger slides right through. Chanyeol remembers how disappointed he felt when Jongwoon broke the news to him. It was as though he was given a present, but someone tore it from his hands. He had thought that maybe humanity hadn’t destroyed all of the environment, that there was still hope to restore the planet. But he was wrong.</p><p>Jongwoon’s car is the kind that Fourth District children dream of having before they realize that they will never be able to ride one, let alone own one. Instead of wheels, it has propellers and a pair of metal wings that allow the car to glide through the air smoothly. There’s no driver either. The car has been preset to take him to Jongwoon’s home. An air traffic system only works within the First District where the population is small enough to avoid congestion and everyday accidents.</p><p>Looking out the car window, Chanyeol has a bird’s eye view of the First District. Interspersed among the lush greenery are white gated mansions, built in reminiscence of the Old Era style, some with crystal swimming pools and open balconies that soak up the fake sunlight. Homes in other Districts are mostly the same, standard apartment complexes that vary in size and quality depending on the District. But here, the architecture exudes wealth.</p><p>Jongwoon’s home is his least favorite. While the other houses’ designs hold interesting shapes and curves, Jongwoon’s is just a large white prism with one side made entirely of glass. Not that Chanyeol is surprised. Jongwoon’s house fits his personality: cold, calculative, and constantly reminding others that he’s not like them — he’s <em>above</em> them.</p><p>When Chanyeol arrives, Jongwoon’s head guard, Minseok, greets him. Immediately, Chanyeol stiffens as he scans Minseok up and down. The guard’s head and one arm are human, the rest of his body is a machine. Chanyeol also suspects that one of Minseok’s eyes is not natural, or at least enhanced; sometimes it flickers cyan. Regardless, Chanyeol makes sure to be on his best behavior. Cyborgs are known for being the best guards and soldiers for the Consulate. They are physically lethal but not subject to software malfunctions and hacking the way droids are. Any small mistake and he might not make it out alive.</p><p>An eerie silence lingers in Jongwoon’s home. It penetrates every room they walk through as Minseok takes him up the elevator to the fourth floor. Even Chanyeol’s footsteps don’t make any sound.</p><p>Jongwoon is lounging in a steel armchair when he arrives. With one leg propped on top the other, he looks like a king preparing for someone’s execution. Chanyeol’s execution, maybe.</p><p>“You’re late,” Jongwoon says icily.</p><p>“I apologize.” Chanyeol bows. He considers giving an excuse but decides against it. He doesn’t want to agitate the Consulate member further.</p><p>“Do you know why I have called you down today?”</p><p>“No sir,” Chanyeol answers honestly.</p><p>“Mr. Park.” Jongwoon sucks in a long breath. “You are one of the best Bounty Hunters. Some could argue that you are <em>the</em> best. You have a one hundred percent success rate on your assignments so far. Now of course, you do take quite a while for each one…”</p><p>Oh, so this was about speed. “Sir, I can assure you that I’m making progress on Byun Baekhyun.”</p><p>“And how can we make certain of that?”</p><p>“As you said, I have a one hundred percent success rate. I have a plan that I’m following. I’ve tracked his location and schedule. It just takes time to find the right moment to…” he pauses, searching for the right words, “finish him.” It’s a half truth. He doesn’t really have a plan, but he knows that he will need more time.</p><p>Jongwoon uncrosses his legs and leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Here’s the thing, Mr. Park. This assignment is different from your previous ones. There’s no infinite time. It’s limited and running out.”</p><p>“I understand. But Baekhyun is, like you said before, dangerous. I need to be careful.”</p><p>“Careful does not mean you need to take forever,” Jongwoon snaps. His voice quickly returns to normal. “But don’t worry. I’m not concerned about you yet. It’s only been a week after all. This is just a reminder. No distractions.”</p><p>Chanyeol bows his head and mutters, “Yes, sir.”</p><p>“You are dismissed.”</p><p>Chanyeol sighs. Two and a half hours of his day will be used up by the time he gets back home, just for a five-minute talk.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Noon is already around the corner when he arrives at the training center. He could have stayed home; there’s only ten minutes until his time with Baekhyun is supposed to end. He’s not sure what prompted him to make the trip all the way out to the Fifth District. But when his hand hovered over the fingerprint lock of his front door, he couldn’t bring his finger down. He just didn’t have the heart to go back to his apartment. It didn’t feel right.</p><p>Like he expects, Baekhyun is immersed in a fight and doesn’t notice his entrance. For the first time, Baekhyun and his opponent have a similar stature: slim at first glance, but a closer look reveals toned muscles and a steady confidence.</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t have much time to examine his opponent. Before Baekhyun can put his arms up, his opponent lands a high kick. Baekhyun pivots to the right and dodges. The guy swings his arm and before Baekhyun can turn around completely, his ridge-hand meets Baekhyun’s neck. Baekhyun’s stumbles backward, eyes widening. But he’s quick to regain his balance. He lifts his leg, bringing his knee to the level of his chest, and pushes outward with his lower leg. His foot strikes his opponent’s stomach, knocking him backwards. The guy hits the ring ropes, bounces off, and somersaults forward. When he stands up, his eyes flash with anger.</p><p>He punches, aiming for Baekhyun’s nose. Before the collision, Baekhyun’s left arm swivels up and grabs his opponent’s outstretched arm. His other hand opens like a snake mouth and grips the guy’s throat. It’s over. His opponent’s face turns red and Chanyeol waits for the guy to surrender. When he doesn’t, Baekhyun adds his other hand around his opponent’s neck. By now, veins are protruding from the side of the guy’s purple face. Baekhyun doesn’t let go, only tightening his grasp.</p><p>Right when Chanyeol thinks, <em>god, that guy’s going to die today, </em>Baekhyun’s opponent brings both his hands to the inside of Baekhyun’s arms and punches through. Baekhyun’s grip breaks, and his opponent’s head comes crashing down, ramming Baekhyun’s nose.</p><p>Baekhyun doesn’t stumble. He merely bends his knees, legs taking up most of the downward force. But when he stands back up, blood gushes out of his nostrils, staining his pale face with crimson, and a wave of nausea hits Chanyeol in the gut. Baekhyun sends a deathly glare to his opponent, and without a word, hops out of the boxing ring.</p><p>He heads toward the entrance of the training room. And that’s when Chanyeol realizes that Baekhyun’s coming towards him. But it’s too late to hide.</p><p>Baekhyun stops upon seeing Chanyeol. He glances up and down, taking the sight of a sickly-pale Chanyeol in.</p><p>“Are you okay?” Chanyeol asks meekly, speaking first.</p><p>“I’m <em>fine</em>.” Baekhyun wipes his nose and examines the result. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath.</p><p>“I can get you tissues if you’d like?”</p><p>“Where the fuck were you?” Baekhyun spits. “You can’t get any stronger if you don’t come to training. Every day you miss, you backtrack two days.”</p><p>Chanyeol’s not sure why Baekhyun is radiating with flames of fury, about to explode. He doesn’t know what else to say, except, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Sorry? <em>Sorry?</em> I waited two hours for your ass to show up. I could have done something else. You wasted my fucking time.”</p><p>“I didn’t ask you to wait for me,” Chanyeol blurts before thinking and he winces at his own words.</p><p>Baekhyun tilts his head back and lets out a terrifying laugh. “You’re right. You didn’t. I don’t know why I even bothered.” A drop of blood trickles down his chin and drips onto the ground. Eyes dropping, he just looks at it.</p><p>At that moment, Chanyeol sees Baekhyun in a different light. For the first time, Baekhyun looks small standing in front of him. Though he holds his chest high, a layer of sweat coats his forehead and neck, and his breath rattles out in small tremors. It’s the first time Chanyeol has ever seen Baekhyun… imperfect. Fragile, vulnerable, and dare he say, beautiful. The longer he thinks about it, the more Chanyeol is certain: At this moment, Baekhyun is naturally beautiful.</p><p>A sudden protectiveness washes over Chanyeol, the urge to wrap Baekhyun in his arms and hold him until he’s okay again.</p><p>“For what it’s worth, I’m genuinely sorry Baekhyun. Something came up that I couldn’t get out of. But I’m here now.”</p><p>“Why? Why are you here Chanyeol? To watch me get beat up?”</p><p>Baekhyun’s unrelenting hostility startles Chanyeol. “No! No, that’s not it. I thought maybe I could catch you here and we could…”</p><p>“Could what?”</p><p>“I… I don’t know,” Chanyeol admits. Because he doesn’t. How does he explain that he just wanted to come? This is not about Hunting; ten minutes is not enough time to make progress on his assignment. He’s just fascinated by Baekhyun and wants every opportunity to uncover him.</p><p>“Then leave.” Baekhyun strides past him, brushing Chanyeol’s shoulder as he does so.</p><p>“No wait!” Chanyeol instinctively reaches out and catches Baekhyun’s wrist. “Where are you going?”</p><p>“Why do you need to know?”</p><p>Chanyeol blushes. “I mean, I just thought that since I already came all the way here, I could come with you? It would be a waste if I went back home.”</p><p>“I didn’t ask you to come here.”</p><p>“I know. But I want to come.”</p><p>“Fine,” Baekhyun agrees reluctantly. He looks down at his hand.</p><p>Chanyeol suddenly remembers that he’s still holding it tightly and he lets go, warmth crawling up his neck to his ears.</p><p> </p><p>They head back to Baekhyun’s home after that. Maybe Chanyeol should be scared of Baekhyun; maybe a normal person would be extra cautious, careful not to press any buttons. But with Baekhyun, Chanyeol fears silence filled with tension more than anything. On the way, he feigns interest at certain landmarks, asking questions in his most enthusiastic voice, as if every sight is a novelty. He can only pray that his act isn’t too over-the-top.</p><p>“What’s this?” He points to a stone statue of a creature. It carries a half-joking, half-menacing expression and the eyes of a lunatic.</p><p>“You’re joking. You’ve never seen one before?” Baekhyun asks incredulously.</p><p>“They don’t have them where I come from.”</p><p>“Right. You live in the fucking city.” Baekhyun approaches the statue and rubs the creature’s paw, which is resting on an embroidered ball. “This is a guardian lion. In the Old Era, they put them in front of temples or whatever. Now superstitious people use them for good luck.”</p><p>“But how did they get here? Wasn’t everything destroyed before Koryo’s founding?”</p><p>“That’s what the Consulate wants you to think,” Baekhyun chuckles. “It’s what I love about this District. So many preserves from the Old Era that the Consulate hasn’t bothered to clean up. I like to say that we’re the only real place in Koryo. <em>Truly real.</em>”</p><p>Chanyeol has to agree. The First District may have a cloudless blue sky and emerald greenery, but the Fifth District is real. He would choose a slice of authenticity over limitless artificial beauty any day.</p><p>When they reach Baekhyun’s home, the lantern welcomes them, dangling and unlit.</p><p>“What’s the lantern for?”</p><p>“To show people that I’m home.” Baekhyun jiggles a key into the old-fashioned lock on his front door.</p><p>“Why would you want that?” Chanyeol frowns.</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Thieves? Bandits? Murderers? It’s dangerous.” <em>Assassins, too</em>, he thinks.</p><p>“There’s nothing to take. We don’t deal with those kinds of problems here.”</p><p>“Are you serious?” Chanyeol raises his voice, shocked at how casual Baekhyun’s answer is.</p><p>Baekhyun snickers. “You should see how wide your eyes are. Of course not. Anyone should know that scarcity increases theft. But no one dares to challenge me. As for the lantern, why do I need a purpose? I just think it’s pretty.” At last his key turns with a click, and the door opens with a creak.</p><p>The first thing Chanyeol notices is the lack of furniture in Baekhyun’s home. Even though the place is small, it carries a vast emptiness. The front door opens to what looks like a living room, but all that occupies it is a small round table and two rusty chairs.</p><p>Unsure of what to do, Chanyeol follows Baekhyun to a small kitchen. Baekhyun opens a pantry and begins to pull out various items, examining each of them before setting it down.</p><p>“I don’t have much food,” he says at last, a hand running through his hair. “Just take something that looks edible.”</p><p>Chanyeol raises his brows but doesn’t ask questions. His eyes glaze over a shelf stocked with jars filled with unrecognizable things, a box of crackers, a can of beans, and two slices of bread. When he takes out the bread, the pantry looks sadly bare.</p><p>Baekhyun shuts the pantry and gestures toward the room they first entered. “You can eat at the table. Just don’t get crumbs on the floor.”</p><p>“Aren’t you going to eat?” Chanyeol questions. Baekhyun’s hands are empty and Chanyeol’s certain that there’s no other food in the kitchen.</p><p>“Not hungry.” Baekhyun brushes past Chanyeol on his way out of the kitchen. Chanyeol follows a step behind.</p><p>Just as Chanyeol is about to take a bite, a loud growl interrupts him. The culprit: Baekhyun’s stomach.</p><p>Chanyeol offers the slice to him. “You should eat.”</p><p>“I said I’m not hungry.”</p><p>“You clearly are,” Chanyeol insists, keeping his hand outstretched.</p><p>“I’m <em>not</em>.” Baekhyun’s glare sends daggers into Chanyeol’s soul.</p><p>“You don’t have to starve yourself just because I’m here. This is your bread anyway.” Chanyeol tries to keep his voice steady but it comes out with an edge, frustration building up inside of him.</p><p>When Baekhyun speaks next, Chanyeol almost jumps at the animosity in his voice. “What do you know about starvation?” Baekhyun seethes. “You think that just because my stomach growls that I should fill it up? News flash, that’s not how life works in the Fifth District. We don’t have huge machines for manufacturing food. You don’t know what it’s like to scavenge for scraps in trash piles. You don’t know anything!” His hand slams the table, startling Chanyeol enough that the bread drops onto the table.</p><p>Chanyeol suddenly stands, his chair screeching as it rubs against the floor. His ears burn hot and he curls his hands into tight fists. “Why are you being so defensive?” He mumbles.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Why are you being so defensive right now? Or rather, today.” He should probably stop talking, but the words roll off his tongue before he can catch them. “I’m just trying to help, but it’s hard when you act as though I’m out to destroy you.”</p><p>“Look, I don’t need your help,” Baekhyun starts, voice cold.</p><p>You never need anyone’s help, Chanyeol thinks. It’s not healthy. That’s when Chanyeol realizes something that he should have observed before: Baekhyun uses his physical strength to mask any vulnerability. He believes that strength is about independence, about being unshatterable. He was created to fight without emotion. Even though it has been years since he’s escaped the Consulate, he’s still conditioned to view anyone too close to him as an enemy. Maybe Baekhyun was one of the children who went rogue.</p><p>Chanyeol is reminded of this morning, how brittle Baekhyun seemed, and the Baekhyun standing in front of him becomes small.</p><p>“You don’t have to act invincible all the time.” Chanyeol speaks softly, as if to a child. “Sometimes, accepting help is a greater sign of strength.”</p><p>Baekhyun maintains a forbidding countenance as he continues to stare into Chanyeol’s eyes. But Chanyeol patiently waits for Baekhyun to respond, returning his gaze. A staring contest.</p><p>Eventually, Baekhyun is the first one to lose. He lowers his head, biting his lip. “Fine. Sorry,” he murmurs.</p><p>“You don’t have to apologize,” Chanyeol says sheepishly.</p><p>“Whatever.” Baekhyun picks up the piece of bread on the table and begins to nibble at it.</p><p>Chanyeol feels his lips curve upwards at the corners but he stops before it becomes a smile. He turns his attention to eating the last piece of bread. When they finish, neither of them is full, but at least they are no longer hungry.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I’m warning you; you won’t enjoy this.”</p><p>“You don’t know that.”</p><p>“Suit yourself,” Baekhyun shrugs.</p><p>As expected, Baekhyun takes Chanyeol to the tavern. When they enter, Chanyeol once again pretends to be in shock.</p><p>“What is this place?” he asks in wonder.</p><p>“What do you think? Every District has a place to get wasted.”</p><p>“Yeah but—”</p><p>“But this place doesn’t have neon lights and electro music? What a surprise.” Baekhyun makes his way to an old-fashioned bar, where a young red-haired man is wiping down empty glasses with a towel. “Two please.”</p><p>“Two?” The man asks. “Oh, and who’s this?”</p><p>“This is Chanyeol.” Baekhyun takes hold of Chanyeol’s arm and pulls him close. “You could say that he’s… a friend.” Baekhyun says <em>“friend”</em> like it’s a question, like he’s testing out that label for Chanyeol.</p><p>“I’m Junmyeon.” The bartender sticks out his hand and Chanyeol shakes it. “A friend of Baekhyun’s is a friend of mine.” His eyes glint while he grins, as if he knows something that Chanyeol doesn’t.</p><p>“Stop creeping him out. He’s not from here you know,” Baekhyun jokes, smirking.</p><p>“No wonder I haven’t seen him here before.” Junmyeon surveys Chanyeol up and down as he sets two clean glasses onto the bar. “Let me guess, Third District?”</p><p>“Fourth,” Baekhyun corrects. “A Third District Bourgeoisie would never step foot here.”</p><p>“Ah, you’re right,” Junmyeon nods and turns to Chanyeol. “What’s the Fourth District like?”</p><p>Not expecting Junmyeon to focus on him, Chanyeol says the first thing that comes to his mind. “There’s no blue sky.”</p><p>Junmyeon and Baekhyun laugh in harmony. “First time I’ve heard someone say that,” Junmyeon comments. “I like that answer. So what brings you here of all places?”</p><p>Before Chanyeol can speak, Baekhyun answers for him. “It’s a mystery I have yet to uncover.” His tone sounds like he’s warning Junmyeon.</p><p>“Oh really?” Junmyeon slides their finished drinks out to them. “Well Baekhyun, I’m glad you brought Chanyeol here. These drinks are on me. Don’t forget to come back for more.” He winks.</p><p>“Of course,” Chanyeol promises. Junmyeon is only the second Outcast he’s talked to and he seems friendly.</p><p>Before Chanyeol can thank Junmyeon further, Baekhyun takes the glasses and hands one to Chanyeol.</p><p>As he steers Chanyeol to the middle of the tavern, one hand on Chanyeol’s back, Baekhyun whispers, “Junmyeon was definitely flirting with you.”</p><p>“Really?” Chanyeol stretches his neck to get a look at the bartender.</p><p>“Hey!” Baekhyun jabs Chanyeol with his elbow. “Keep your head forward. And yes, really. God that was disgusting.”</p><p>Chanyeol frowns. “Why?”</p><p>“His wink and that look he gave you.” Baekhyun shudders. “Never again.”</p><p>“That’s unfair. I appreciate being considered attractive,” Chanyeol pouts.</p><p>“Just because you’re attractive doesn’t mean I want to see Junmyeon act like that,” Baekhyun scowls and pushes Chanyeol’s back.</p><p>Chanyeol stops in his place. “Wait. So, you admit I’m attractive.”</p><p>“I never said that.” Baekhyun drops his arm from Chanyeol’s back, quickening his pace, and Chanyeol has to jog to catch up.</p><p>Chanyeol bites his lip to prevent himself from breaking into a grin.</p><p>They approach a table filled with other people, all of them around the same age as Baekhyun and Chanyeol.</p><p>“Greetings, friends. Yixing, shut up and listen. This is Chanyeol. He will be joining us today.”</p><p>All eyes at the table turn to stare at Chanyeol. He waves shyly.</p><p>“So, the legendary Byun Baekhyun has finally brought a guest. I didn’t think this day would ever come,” an attractive young woman remarks.</p><p>“What can I say, Seulgi? I’m full of surprises.” Baekhyun gives a teasing smile.</p><p>Seulgi looks familiar. Chanyeol scours his memory for her image. At last he figures out that she’s the woman that challenged Baekhyun in the boxing ring. As he scans the faces at the table, he realizes that many of them have been Baekhyun’s opponents in the training room.</p><p>“I’ve seen you before,” notes Yixing, the person Baekhyun told to shut up. “Ah, this morning! You were the one watching us fight.”</p><p>It clicks: Yixing was the guy who gave Baekhyun a bloody nose. An indescribable annoyance fills Chanyeol; despite not knowing much about Yixing, he doesn’t like the guy.</p><p>“Yeah that was me,” Chanyeol says grimly.</p><p>“And Baekhyun brought you here because…?” Yixing asks, eyes shifting to Baekhyun.</p><p>“I warned him, but Chanyeol insisted that he wanted to come with me,” answers Baekhyun.</p><p>“Don’t worry, he’ll have a great time with us,” Seulgi beams and pats at an empty seat next to her. “You can sit next to me.”</p><p>Chanyeol sends a nervous look at Baekhyun. Thankfully, Baekhyun counters Seulgi. “Nice try Seulgi. I’m not letting you scare him on his first day here. Chanyeol will be sitting next to me.”</p><p>Baekhyun grabs Chanyeol’s wrist and drags him to two empty seats in the middle of the table. As he takes a seat, Chanyeol thinks he catches Seulgi raising her eyebrows at the person sitting next to her.</p><p> </p><p>They play drinking games, ones that Chanyeol has never heard of, but people are kind enough to make sure that he can follow along. The atmosphere is warm and welcoming, and Chanyeol easily fits into the group as if he’s always been a member. This is another difference between Exordium and the tavern. At Exordium, no matter how many times he’s been there, he always feels like an outsider.</p><p>The first time he downs the liquor, he nearly spits it back out.</p><p>“What is this stuff?” He asks Baekhyun with a grimace. “It burns.”</p><p>Baekhyun gives a lopsided smile. “It’s baijiu, what they drank in the Old Era. Here, we don’t deal with your fancy sweet cocktails. It’s hard liquor or nothing.”</p><p>After a few more shots, his throat numbs. The harshness slowly fades, along with Chanyeol’s negative perception of Yixing. He watches as Yixing and Baekhyun bicker, lean into each other, and joke around. Baekhyun and Yixing are — in fact — not enemies, but good friends. It surprises Chanyeol that Baekhyun is actually sociable — much more sociable than himself. Chanyeol tries to ignore the friendly touches that Yixing and Baekhyun exchange: gentle hands resting on the other’s knee, a head on the other’s shoulder. Chanyeol shouldn’t care. Yet it’s so hard to look away.</p><p>“So Baekhyun. What do you think about Yixing defeating you today?” the girl sitting next to Seulgi asks. Her name is Seungwan. The chatter at the table wanes as everyone leans in to listen.</p><p>“Oh, that? An anomaly. I was distracted.” Baekhyun leans back in his chair, crossing his legs.</p><p>“You did seem aggravated this morning,” Yixing admits. “Are you good?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Baekhyun waves him off. “I’m fine now. But what can I say? I’m also just that good of a teacher.”</p><p>“Teacher?” Chanyeol asks, suddenly interested in the conversation.</p><p>“Yep. Baekhyun taught us all how to fight,” says Seungwan. “Some of us are better than others. Like Yixing here is a fast learner.”</p><p>So, the people that Baekhyun fights every morning are his students. That makes sense. Baekhyun doesn’t need to become stronger when he’s already genetically modified. He doesn’t train for himself; he trains his friends.</p><p>“Speaking of which,” Seulgi interjects, “Chanyeol, aren’t you Baekhyun’s newest student?”</p><p>From the corner of his eye, Chanyeol steals a glance at Baekhyun, who looks amused. “I guess I am.”</p><p>“Baekhyun, I didn’t know that you give one-on-one lessons.” Seulgi continues. She gestures at the rest of the table. “We had to learn all together.”</p><p>To her side, Seungwan snickers.</p><p>Baekhyun finishes another shot and calmly sets his glass onto the table. “Please, that’s different. Teaching you all one-on-one would take a millennium. Also, Chanyeol actually had potential to begin with. He just needs the correct…” Baekhyun makes a circle movement with one hand next to his head, trying to find the right word.</p><p>“Technique?” the guy to the right of Chanyeol, Taeyong, offers.</p><p>“Yes.” Baekhyun snaps his fingers. “Precisely.”</p><p>“What do you think of Baekhyun?” Yixing questions Chanyeol.</p><p>The question startles him. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“As a teacher, of course.”</p><p>“Ah.” What else could Yixing have meant? Chanyeol has to think for a moment before he responds, “He’s strict, sometimes a little scary. Makes me feel like the weakest person in the world,” Chanyeol’s words slur and he laughs. “But I trust him. I don’t think he would ever purposefully misguide me.”</p><p>Maybe it’s the alcohol talking. If he was sober, maybe he would have dodged the question. Yet after the words leave his mouth, he can’t say that he would take anything back. Because it’s true. Baekhyun might be hot-headed and defensive, but the reason Chanyeol keeps coming back is because of trust. Trusting your enemy, how ironic. But the idea of Baekhyun as his target is beginning to fade, instead replaced by Baekhyun as his mentor.</p><p>Chanyeol sneaks a peek at Baekhyun. A small, smug smile inches its way onto Baekhyun’s lips.</p><p>Time passes the rest of the afternoon in a non-linear fashion. It turns out that baijiu is much stronger of a liquor than Chanyeol expects, and soon the rest of the table’s chatter becomes a distant hum. A throbbing works its way into his head. His eyelids begin to droop heavily.</p><p>As evening approaches, Baekhyun’s shoulder looks more and more inviting. Chanyeol doesn’t remember when he leans in, eyes taking in Baekhyun’s face up close — the way his jaw shifts when he swallows, tongue moistening his soft pink lips, sky blue eyes that Chanyeol wants to get lost in.</p><p>“You’re perfect,” Chanyeol whispers as he rests his head gently on Baekhyun’s shoulder, and he means it. He closes his eyes, relishing in the faint scent of alcohol and Baekhyun’s warmth.</p><p> </p><p>When Chanyeol awakens, the refreshing sound of running water greets his ears. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the dim-lit room, sweeping over its bareness and its cracked walls. He’s in Baekhyun’s house. Baekhyun’s <em>room</em>.</p><p>Chanyeol scrambles off the bed he’s been lying on. Despite racking his brain, he can’t remember how he got there. What happened? He presses his nails into his palm and a hologram display opens up, flashing the time on the home screen: eleven PM. It’s too late to go home.</p><p>A slice of light peeks through the door crack. He tentatively opens the door, trying not to make any sound.</p><p>“I see that you’re awake.” Baekhyun suddenly appears in front of him, making him jump a little.</p><p>“Yeah. How did I…?” Chanyeol gestures at himself, hoping that Baekhyun will get the message.</p><p>“You don’t remember?” Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. “Yixing and I carried you. I could have done it myself, but he insisted on helping.”</p><p>“Oh, I must have drunk a lot.” Suddenly a searing pain shoots through Chanyeol’s head and he winces, fingers grasping his hair. “Do you have The Party Pill?” He pleads more than asks.</p><p>“Sorry, we don’t have those here,” Baekhyun says apologetically. “But drink this.” He hands over a steaming cup filled to the brim with white porridge-like substance.</p><p>“What’s this? Ah <em>shit</em>.” Chanyeol retracts his burnt hands and puts his fingertips in his mouth.</p><p>Baekhyun laughs. “It’s a special hangover remedy. You might not like it, but it works.”</p><p>Chanyeol takes a sip skeptically. Sure enough, it’s bitter to the taste, and the chunkiness makes it worse. But his headache is infinitely more unbearable, so he pinches his nose and chugs the entire drink down. When he’s done, he flashes a half-grin half-grimace and hands the cup back.</p><p>“Go to sleep. We have an early day tomorrow.” Baekhyun says when he returns from the kitchen, now empty-handed.</p><p>“Sleep? You mean here?” Chanyeol asks in disbelief.</p><p>“Yes…? Unless you want to walk all the way back home.”</p><p>That is what he was planning on doing. But Chanyeol is relieved for the offer. It’s cold out, and despite the amount of time he spends outdoors during the night, it’s dangerous. “Oh, thanks I guess.”</p><p>Baekhyun doesn’t answer, but with an I-told-you-so look on his face, he passes Chanyeol into his bedroom.</p><p>Once inside, it takes a moment for Chanyeol to process what is going on when Baekhyun begins to strip. Facing away from Chanyeol, Baekhyun tugs his shirt over his head. His back muscles flex, outlined by the shadows from the room’s dim lighting. Chanyeol gulps, suddenly feeling warm.</p><p>Next comes the pants. As Baekhyun loosens the drawstrings, Chanyeol forcefully averts his eyes. In his peripheral vision, he glimpses flashes of milky white legs. At the sound of Baekhyun’s pants plopping onto the floor, for a moment, a sudden inquiry pops up: Who else does Baekhyun undress like this for? <em>Stop</em>. Chanyeol clenches his jaw, suppressing any perverse thoughts from infiltrating his brain.</p><p>“You can look now.” Baekhyun has turned around, lips pulling into a smirk. “Don’t worry, I don’t sleep naked.” A pair of tight-fitting boxers cling to his thighs, saving Chanyeol from an even more awkward situation.</p><p>“Good to know,” Chanyeol mutters. Nevertheless, he grows even warmer than he already is. As for himself, he opts for a clean t-shirt and shorts from Baekhyun, which are small on his long limbs but will have to do.</p><p>They crawl into bed, Baekhyun insisting that he will sleep on the side closer to the door “just in case there’s an intruder.” Chanyeol falls asleep to Baekhyun’s steady breathing, with images of their legs entangled together drifting in his cognizance.</p><p> </p><p>When Chanyeol opens his eyes, sunlight refracts through the cracked window, the morning rays splitting as they paint the gray room into a peachy hue. Chanyeol is breathless, enthralled once again by the sun. It’s his first time waking up to warmth — such a stark contrast to the cold, suffocating air of his dark apartment.</p><p>He feels a source of heat behind him and he stills, unsure of whether Baekhyun is awake yet. When he senses no movement, he turns to the other side.</p><p>The blankets are low enough to reveal Baekhyun’s collar bone, contoured by the angle the light hits. Despite the serene atmosphere, Chanyeol is consumed by sudden irrationality. He wants more than anything to lean in and leave a mark, to claim a piece of territory for himself. Instead, he swallows thickly. From there, he shifts his gaze upward, trying not to mind the way Baekhyun’s tongue flickers to wet his lips. Then, their eyes lock. Chanyeol’s breath catches in his throat.</p><p>Soft shadows fall onto Baekhyun’s face. His expression is tranquil, hair tousled and eyes lacking its usual intensity. Gone is the sense of paternalism. This Baekhyun isn’t the one who exudes superiority and control; not the one who wields a forcefield. Nor is he fragile and bruised. Chanyeol has a feeling that this is Baekhyun’s most natural — most human — form.</p><p>“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Baekhyun’s lips move, but Chanyeol hardly registers what has been said.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“The view. Isn’t it magnificent?” Baekhyun asks, still staring into Chanyeol’s soul.</p><p>“Yeah,” Chanyeol croaks, but he’s not sure whether Baekhyun is referring to the sunrise or the sight in front of him. He finds that either way, the same answer applies.</p><p>“No one comes to the Fifth District by choice, me included. But the view is one of the reasons I stayed. And with you here, perhaps it got even better.” Baekhyun’s comment is so casual and natural that it leaves Chanyeol questioning if it was even said in the first place. Baekhyun continues without waiting for a response. “How can you return to the Fourth District knowing what the sky truly looks like?”</p><p>Chanyeol responds slowly but truthfully. “You know, every time I have to leave, I ask myself that same question.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“You do?” Chanyeol’s eyes widen in surprise.</p><p>“Of course. Why else would you come back here every day?”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah, I guess it’s the reason I came yesterday too.” Yes — that must be it, He came for the sky, not because he can’t look away from the person lying in front of him.</p><p>“Well, shit. I was wrong for thinking that you genuinely wanted to spend time with me,” Baekhyun pouts, lips jutting out.</p><p>Chanyeol’s heart does a flip-flop. “You know that’s not what I meant…”</p><p>“I know.” Mischief glints in Baekhyun’s eyes, like someone pressed a button to switch him back to his usual character. A hint of a smile crawls onto his lips. “I just wanted to hear you talk. I like your morning voice. It’s like… dark chocolate melting on your tongue on a cold winter day.”</p><p>Chanyeol bites his lip. Is Baekhyun… flirting with him? He wouldn’t know. Forget about real life; even in terms of books, romance was the one genre he never ventured in. Occasional hook ups and sex in the Fourth District brothels don’t count. Plus, for moral reasons, he hasn’t been to a brothel in years. All he knows is that the way Baekhyun speaks is the same way the servers at Exordium sweet talk through their way to generous tips, something that was always a turnoff for him. But with Baekhyun, Chanyeol feels a tingling sensation that he can’t help but enjoy.</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t know much about Baekhyun, except that he’s on the Consulate’s most-wanted list; that he could be the most dangerous person in Koryo; that he’s selfless enough to teach his friends how to fight; that if Chanyeol tries hard enough, Baekhyun’s facade of strength can be broken. Chanyeol also knows that he wants to learn more about Baekhyun, regardless of his Hunting assignment.</p><p>But he knows even less about romance. He knows that Baekhyun has always been a beautiful creature, but he doesn’t know why for the past day his eyes don’t want to leave him. He can’t explain why he wanted to tag along with Baekhyun yesterday (wanting to see the sky is a lame excuse), or why he wants to drown in Baekhyun’s blue eyes.</p><p>He doesn’t know when the right time is, or if there is a right time at all to do this, but fuck “correct” romance, because Baekhyun’s breath is hot against his neck, and if now isn’t the right time then Chanyeol might go crazy.</p><p>Though they are only a few inches apart, an eternity passes before Chanyeol at last closes the distance between them, hand gently cupping Baekhyun’s jaw. The moment their lips touch, the nervousness that has been gripping his gut loosens, and he focuses instead on the softness of Baekhyun’s lips. Baekhyun reciprocates with a smile, like he has been expecting this. But while Chanyeol has the intent of going slow, Baekhyun tangles his fingers into Chanyeol’s hair and pulls their bodies close. His kisses are passionate and hot, leaning into each one as he slides his tongue into Chanyeol’s mouth, stealing Chanyeol’s breath away.</p><p>Chanyeol pulls away first when he needs to catch a gulp of air. His heart pounds through his chest and in his ear drums, and he realizes that no amount of long-distance running could prepare his lungs for this. It takes a moment for what happened to fully process. It felt right to kiss Baekhyun then, but Chanyeol was hardly thinking. What if he misinterpreted Baekhyun’s intentions? But surely not — Baekhyun reciprocated, right? Panic seizes him, and at last he tentatively brings himself to scan Baekhyun’s face to gauge his reaction.</p><p>Chanyeol is met with a fit of Baekhyun’s laughter, breaking both Chanyeol’s nervousness and the sexual tension between them. “Damn, it took you a while to get the hint. I thought I was going to have to make the first move, and that’s something I never do.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Chanyeol cringes. “I’m not well-versed in these kinds of things.”</p><p>“No need to apologize. I know now that you just don’t realize how attractive you are.” Baekhyun reaches over and brushes a lock of Chanyeol’s hair that has fallen in front of his eyes.</p><p>It’s Chanyeol’s turn to chuckle disbelievingly.</p><p>“I’m serious,” Baekhyun insists. “Remember when Junmyeon was about to jump on your dick? I’ll admit it now that you’re attractive. I’ve thought that from the very first day we met, when you challenged me in the ring. Tall and handsome black-haired newcomer puts up a decent fight against the master himself.”</p><p>“But I got beat up really badly,” Chanyeol groans at the memory.</p><p>“And? Everyone does their first time around, but hardly anyone shows up the next day. You’re like… a lost dog — bold and aspirational, yet naive.”</p><p>“I’m <em>not</em> a lost dog,” Chanyeol counters, eyebrows furrowing.</p><p>“Yes, you are, and not just in terms of fighting. No one else thinks it’s fun to tail around me for an entire day. And no one else has the gut to challenge my orders. I don’t like it when people disobey me, but when you do, it’s oddly endearing.”</p><p>Chanyeol is somehow comforted by those words. “Well, if I’m a dog, does that imply you own me?” The question slips out of his mouth before he can think of its implications.</p><p>Baekhyun smirks. “I don’t think you’d let me own you, Chanyeol.”</p><p>Chanyeol lets out a husky but soft laugh. “You’re probably right.”</p><p>Suddenly feeling courageous, Chanyeol asks if he can stare at Baekhyun’s eyes from up close and, surprisingly, Baekhyun agrees. As the sun begins to rise, Baekhyun’s irises turn into a pale turquoise. Maybe Chanyeol doesn’t want to be a dog, but he can’t deny that he’s definitely lost.</p><p>“We should get going,” Baekhyun stops him eventually. “You shouldn’t miss another day of training.”</p><p>Chanyeol groans. “I forgot about that.”</p><p>In one motion, Baekhyun leaps out of bed and pulls the blankets to the side, exposing Chanyeol’s long limbs. “Sorry bud, as much as making out with you is fun and all, first and foremost I’m your trainer. Get your ass out. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”</p><p> </p><p>After an embarrassing twenty minutes of having Baekhyun stare down his back as Chanyeol shuffles around a punching bag, Baekhyun decides that Chanyeol is ready for the next step.</p><p>“We can finally start what you’ve been waiting for.” Baekhyun points to the boxing ring. “Get in.”</p><p>Upon instinct, Chanyeol bends his legs and raises his arms to a ready position.</p><p>“Good. Yes, very good,” Baekhyun compliments. “But save this for later. We’re not about to fight right now.”</p><p>“But this is what I’ve been waiting for,” Chanyeol says in a disappointed voice.</p><p>Baekhyun sighs. “Basics first, remember? You shouldn’t try to get killed in five minutes. We’ll start with five moves today. Now come on.” He beckons with his hand. “Punch me in the face.”</p><p>Chanyeol hesitates, not wanting to inflict pain on his trainer. But he figures that this is just a demonstration, so he throws a right-arm punch, aiming for Baekhyun’s nose. Baekhyun swiftly swivels leftward out of the way. His left arm shoots upward, fingertips just a centimeter away from Chanyeol’s right eye.</p><p>“If I wanted to, I could injure your right eye.” Baekhyun puts his arm down. “This is called the eye strike.”</p><p>“But I would still be able to see out of my other eye.”</p><p>“Yeah, no shit. This won’t blind you, but it will hurt like hell. And it’s the fear of being blinded in the first place that will make your opponent panic. Off-guard opponents are the easiest to defeat. Now you try.”</p><p>Chanyeol tries to mimic Baekhyun’s movements, but his hand ends up whacking Baekhyun on the head.</p><p>“Oh my, I didn’t mean to hit you. I swear I followed what you did exactly,” Chanyeol says while scratching the back of his head.</p><p>Baekhyun rubs his head. “That really hurt. I think I might have a concussion now.” His face then breaks into amusement. “I’m kidding. There aren’t many tall people around here, so I forgot to consider that your arms are too long. Try again, but step farther back.”</p><p>This time, Chanyeol gets it perfectly. They follow this formula: Baekhyun first demonstrates the move, Chanyeol imitates to the best of his abilities, Baekhyun patiently gives feedback, and then Chanyeol tries again until he masters the move. Hook attack, knee lock, thumb jerk, and backward offense, are all names of combat moves that Chanyeol snickers at before he cries out in pain from a twisted arm and a kick to the groin.</p><p>When the training session ends, Chanyeol hobbles to the perimeter of the boxing ring. He can’t even bring himself to lift his legs over the ropes.</p><p>“Need a hand?” Baekhyun asks, stretching out an arm from outside the ring.</p><p>“No,” Chanyeol replies. Now isn’t the time to appear weak, especially when Baekhyun has already deemed him a lost dog. He lifts a leg up with resolution, but quickly winces in pain and sets his foot down.</p><p>Baekhyun doesn’t say anything. He just keeps his hand outstretched with a smug expression, as if to say, <em>If you don’t take it, you’ll have to figure out how to get over by yourself</em>. Chanyeol sighs and takes it. Baekhyun’s hands are so small in comparison to Chanyeol’s large ones, but despite this, he practically lifts Chanyeol over the ropes.</p><p>“Your majesty, I am glad to see that you are safe and sound,” Baekhyun jokes as Chanyeol regains his balance.</p><p>Chanyeol glares. “Safe is a loose term.”</p><p>Baekhyun cocks his head. “Oh? I thought you were already ready to fight?”</p><p>“Shut up,” Chanyeol scowls. “I need to go home now.” He pulls his hand away and begins making his way to the exit. However, he only takes a few steps before his knees crumple and he’s on all fours, panting.</p><p>“Looks like that won’t be happening.” Baekhyun crouches and once again sticks out a hand. “Come with me for now.”</p><p>Chanyeol shakes his head. “I really have to go.” He musters up the last bit of strength in his legs to push himself to his feet. In doing so, he misses the slightly dejected look that flashes across Baekhyun’s face. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yeah, see you. You better come back in one shape.”</p><p>Chanyeol looks back at Baekhyun, who has also stood up by now. He grins. “Don’t worry, I will.”</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the week’s training sessions pass by in a similar fashion. Chanyeol has to memorize a series of defensive-but-offensive movements each day, and by the end of the week his mind is brimming with steps, angles, and special fighting techniques. The key difference with the previous week is that instead of his bodily pain weakening as time passes, he’s the same — if not more — fatigued than the first day.</p><p>His head is not only filled with repetitive motions; Chanyeol also filters through the new things he learns about Baekhyun. For instance, Baekhyun’s sense of humor is exceptionally dark. Non-stop jokes about destruction — self-destruction, dismantling the system, tearing apart limbs, and occasional jabs at the Consulate. Another thing Chanyeol learns is that Baekhyun likes to give, but not receive. Each day after Chanyeol heads home, Baekhyun stays behind to practice combat with his friends. Sometimes, Chanyeol lingers for a few minutes and watches how Baekhyun gives them pointers and adjusts their postures. Even in terms of physical contact, Chanyeol notices that Baekhyun is willing to touch, but uncomfortable with being touched.</p><p>Chanyeol tests this theory about physical contact. He begins with a few fleeting touches, playing them off as accidents. After there’s no obvious reaction, he takes more deliberative actions that last longer. For these, Baekhyun flinches away. For some reason, this reaction only makes Chanyeol more curious. Later he grips Baekhyun’s wrist unsolicitedly, and the latter visibly tenses up. Chanyeol even considers kissing Baekhyun to see what happens, but he decides against that. For all he knows, his theory doesn’t apply to kissing, evidenced by the fact that Baekhyun explicitly stated that he never makes the first move.</p><p>Chanyeol wonders if he can be the first person to make Baekhyun comfortable with being touched.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The marketplace is the only place of life in the Fourth District. It brings back wistful memories: playing hide and seek with other dirt-covered children, stealing flaming hot corncobs from Mrs. Lee’s stand, his mother bargaining for textiles the day before New Years. During the daytime, the streets are eerily silent and desaturated, empty stands looming like an abandoned ghost town. The marketplace only awakens at night, the streets illuminated by neon signs and scarlet lanterns that hang from the top of each stand.</p><p>A myriad of colors and smells overwhelm Chanyeol’s senses as he steps foot inside. Turning to see Baekhyun’s reaction, he can’t help but chuckle. Baekhyun, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, has hardly moved from the entrance.</p><p>Chanyeol backtracks to Baekhyun’s side and elbows him. “Change your mind about not wanting to come?”</p><p>Baekhyun regains his normal posture and elbows Chanyeol back. “Shut up and let me enjoy the view.”</p><p>“You can enjoy the view as we walk,” Chanyeol says as he pulls Baekhyun away from the marketplace entrance.</p><p>It was Chanyeol’s idea to take Baekhyun to the marketplace. After spending so many hours tagging along Baekhyun in the Fifth District, it only seemed fair that he should reciprocate. Baekhyun was reluctant at first, afraid that he might be recognized, but Chanyeol insisted that no Prole cares who visits the marketplace, as long as the stand owners get paid. In the end, Chanyeol also added that Baekhyun needs food in his pantry, and Baekhyun finally gave in on the condition that he gets to wear a mask. This reminded Chanyeol that he ought to wear a mask too, for two reasons — one, he should conceal his identity from any possible Consulate spies; two, he doesn’t want Baekhyun to feel weird for being the only one with a mask on.</p><p>“What the hell is <em>that</em>?” Baekhyun points to a stand that sells jars filled with what looks like rainbow-colored gummies. The stand looks like a bar with a high table for a capacity of four, except instead of drinks, people are ordering from the jars of gummies.</p><p>“That’s a dellie stand. Those gummies aren’t candies, they’re psychedelic drugs. The colors differentiate the type of vision you get. They can range from harmless visions like animals to others that help stimulate your body,” Chanyeol explains as clinically as possible. He’s never tried one himself, but back in school, Sehun took a dellie that turned him on whenever he saw the color magenta, which unfortunately was all over the marketplace. He shudders at the memory.</p><p>“Let’s try one.” Baekhyun wriggles his eyebrows and grins, then starts to make his way to the dellie stand.</p><p>“Baekhyun, <em>no</em>.” Chanyeol rushes to catch up. He interlocks their arms and forcefully drags Baekhyun away. “We’re here for groceries, not drugs.”</p><p>“You’re no fun.” Baekhyun rolls his eyes but doesn’t resist.</p><p>For several other stands, including rings that change body temperature, magazines with moving models, robot pets, and droid massages, Chanyeol has to yank Baekhyun back on track. This is a new side of the rebel characterized by childish curiosity. Every unfamiliar thing leaves him wanting a piece of it, which Chanyeol finds oddly endearing.</p><p>When a synthesis of sweet, spicy, sour, and salty scents waft in the air, at last they have reached the food section of the market. With most domesticated meat produce reserved for the wealthier districts, the Fourth District has gotten creative at finding delicacies.</p><p>“Two please,” Chanyeol orders from a street vendor, and a sweaty, bald man hands him two skewers of fried bugs, his favorite street food.</p><p>Baekhyun looks offended. “I am <em>not</em> eating whatever that shit is.”</p><p>Chanyeol holds a skewer out to him. “Try one. I promise they are delicious.”</p><p>“Try and make me,” Baekhyun refuses.</p><p>Entertained, Chanyeol accepts the challenge. He leans in, cupping one hand around Baekhyun’s ear. “This is a Fourth District delicacy. If you don’t eat, people will stare. What if someone finds out who you are?” When he pulls back, Baekhyun has an unamused face, eyes boring holes into the skewer of bugs.</p><p>“Fine,” Baekhyun mumbles and moves his mask above his mouth. He takes a small bite with eyes closed, chewing slowly before swallowing. His eyes fling open and he tilts his head, re-examining the skewer. “This is not bad, actually.” He pulls an entire bug off the skewer and pops it in his mouth, then licks his fingers.</p><p>“Told you so,” Chanyeol smiles knowingly.</p><p>There are more: pigeons eyes, rodent tails, synthetic meat, and of course, instant ramen at a noodle bar. They fill up three plastic bags up with take-out and pre-prepared meals, nothing truly fresh because “fresh” simply doesn’t exist in this time and place. They eat a little bit of everything that they buy, since Baekhyun doesn’t have the patience to wait until he returns home. By the time their mouths stop munching, their bellies are on the verge of bursting. Baekhyun lets out a satisfied burp, breaking his usual poised character, which makes both of them laugh. Eventually they find a window sill of a store selling holographic television sets to sit on as they recover from their food coma.</p><p>“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten this much,” Baekhyun groans, rubbing his stomach.</p><p>“That’s not saying much. You usually hardly eat,” Chanyeol notes, setting down the bags of food by his feet.</p><p>“That’s because I didn’t know that food could taste so great.” Baekhyun wipes some food residue off the corner of his lips and flicks it off into the street. “By the way, I’ll pay you back.”</p><p>“You don’t need to. It’s my treat.”</p><p>“No, please let me. I don’t like to be in debt to people.”</p><p>Chanyeol knew this conversation would come up. It falls in line with Baekhyun’s character of not wanting to depend on others, willing to help but not accepting it.</p><p>“If anything, I was in debt to you before this. All those training lessons and letting me crash at your place. View this as a way of me repaying you for that.”</p><p>“What about…” Baekhyun starts and Chanyeol looks at him inquisitively, anticipating the rest of the sentence. “You pay, I’ll train you, <em>and</em> the door to my home is always open to you.”</p><p>Chanyeol breathes inward sharply. This isn’t a question, he realizes; Baekhyun isn’t allowing any room for disagreement. Baekhyun’s home… last time Chanyeol was there, they — he curls his toes at this thought, hoping that the glare of the neon lights is enough to hide the red in his face.</p><p>“Yeah?” Baekhyun asks for a sign of reassurance, entirely serious like this is just a business deal.</p><p>Chanyeol clears his throat and urges himself to calm down. “Yeah.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, want to come with us to the tavern today?”</p><p>The last day of the third week’s training session has just ended. Instead of going home immediately, Chanyeol stayed behind to watch Baekhyun fight in the boxing ring, with the intent of taking in the strategies and tactics employed by the more experienced fighters. But this intent was short-lived; as much as he wanted to learn from others, Chanyeol couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Baekhyun.</p><p>It was like the combat ring was a stage and Baekhyun was the lead actor, with the spotlight illuminating him but dimming out everyone else. Every move was calculated. Chanyeol could see the gears in Baekhyun’s head turning before each step. Yet simultaneously, the execution of his movements looked as though he was running through a choreography that had been ingrained in muscle memory. He bent gracefully, every hit followed a fast but steady tempo, all the while he maintained a serene composure.</p><p>When Baekhyun stepped out of the fighting ring, Chanyeol panicked and fled to the nearest room he could think of — the building’s makeshift changing room. It was an in-the-moment decision. He was sure that Baekhyun knew he had been observing, but he did not want to have a face-to-face confrontation with his trainer. Why? Well, he was sure that Baekhyun would tease him about it. And Chanyeol doesn’t want to face that kind of embarrassment right now.</p><p>But here Baekhyun is, at the entrance of the changing room. Baekhyun hasn’t brought up Chanyeol’s stalkerish behavior… yet. He just gives his classic knowing, smug smile.</p><p>“The tavern? Now?” Chanyeol sputters, trying to contain his fluster.</p><p>“Yeah. I mean, you’re still here, so it looks like you’re in no rush to go home,” Baekhyun says as he walks closer and closer to where Chanyeol is standing.</p><p>“No, I’m late now. I can’t stay for longer,” Chanyeol lies. He doesn’t have a reason to go home, except that he knows if he stays longer, something unintended might happen. Wild thoughts have ravaged his mind as of late. It terrifies him to see Baekhyun up close, as if Baekhyun can read his mind.</p><p>“Aw, such a pity,” Baekhyun says softly, now right in front of Chanyeol. “I thought you wanted to stay. It looked like you enjoyed watching me.”</p><p>Chanyeol leans back against the changing room wall. “I wasn’t watching just you.”</p><p>“Don’t lie to me, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun presses a hand against the wall, preventing Chanyeol from escaping from the right. “I can tell when a person is watching me.”</p><p>Chanyeol’s eyes fall to the torn neckline of Baekhyun’s shirt, revealing toned pectoral muscles. Perspiration glistens down Baekhyun’s neck and chest, yet the smell of his sweat is not unpleasant, but almost sweet.</p><p>Baekhyun has never been this close before. He’s so close that Chanyeol realizes that his skin is not actually blemish-free. Three moles dot his face — one on his cheek, another on the left side of his nose, and the last right above the right corner of his upper lip.</p><p>Chanyeol’s legs feel like they’ve become liquified. He tries to focus on steadying his breathing and bringing his heart rate down to a healthy level. Before he has enough time to fill his lungs with oxygen, Baekhyun’s lips come crashing down on his own.</p><p>As Baekhyun leans into him, Chanyeol’s body slams against the wall. With one arm, Baekhyun reaches behind Chanyeol’s nape to get a better angle. Baekhyun’s other arm feels around his body, traveling up and down his biceps before sliding up his shirt.</p><p>Despite being years since his last real makeout session, excluding the one in Baekhyun’s bed, he finds himself slipping naturally into it. At first, Baekhyun guides and he follows, but soon he’s warmed up enough to take his own risks. When Baekhyun maneuvers his tongue between Chanyeol’s lips, this time he returns the favor — plunging his tongue into Baekhyun’s mouth, turning it, and swirling it. The kisses are hot, rough, saliva-ridden, and lacking any orderliness. Chanyeol doesn’t have any time to pause to look at Baekhyun’s face because they kiss with such urgency and fervor.</p><p>Maybe what is between them is lust… or maybe it isn’t. This kiss feels different from Chanyeol’s other ones. It feels <em>good</em>. Not like he’s trying to erase loneliness; not like it’s forced.</p><p>Back in the brothels, he would’ve avoided mouth-to-mouth kissing if he could have. Chanyeol viewed kissing only as customary, done out of politeness to show his appreciation to the sex workers. But with Baekhyun, he wants this — he aches for it. It’s physical desire. Not desire for the act of kissing itself, but for the <em>person</em> he’s making out with. Chanyeol has no clue what this means. What it means for them. He’s not sure if Baekhyun kisses him back because he’s physically attractive, or if something else is between them.</p><p>What does Chanyeol want between them? He can’t give an answer. All he knows is that he’s drawn to Baekhyun, but he’s unable to pinpoint whether it’s physical, sexual, romantic, or even just plain curiosity.</p><p>These thoughts whirl through his head, all while he’s pressed against the wall and barely breathing. Their physical actions are determined and deliberate, yet Chanyeol’s head is plagued with uncertainty. He wants to scream, but his lips are too occupied with exploring the inside of Baekhyun’s mouth. He’s over thinking it.</p><p>Baekhyun slows to a stop. “What’s wrong?” He asks, chest heaving.</p><p>Chanyeol blinks. “Nothing,” he mutters. He wipes the saliva off his face, but his mouth still stings.</p><p>“We’ve been over this, don’t even try lying.” Baekhyun presses a kiss onto Chanyeol’s neck. “Your body language is so obvious to me.”</p><p>At this, Chanyeol stiffens. He has always considered an expert at hiding his emotions, but Baekhyun is seeing right through him.</p><p>He twists away from the wall, leaving a short space between them. “Nothing’s really wrong. It’s just that… I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.” He hesitates in fear that he’s misinterpreting the entire situation.</p><p>“Come on, you can tell me,” Baekhyun coaxes in a voice that sounds so earnest and soft.</p><p>Chanyeol takes a long and deep breath, urging the words to come out. “Okay. I just want to know, what are we?”</p><p>“Do you mean, ‘<em>who</em> are we?’”</p><p>“No,” Chanyeol shakes his head. “Like, what is going on between us?”</p><p>“What do <em>you </em>think, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asks as he begins to fix his shirt.</p><p>“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you. I’ve never done something like this before.” There. He said it. Now Baekhyun knows that he has zero experience whatsoever.</p><p>“Why do we need a label? I’m attracted to you, and from what just happened, I think you’re attracted to me.” Baekhyun purses his lips before continuing. “You probably want to know if I like you. But do you even know if you like me?”</p><p>“No… I don’t know,” Chanyeol admits, shoulders slumping. “I can’t really explain my thoughts right now.”</p><p>“I thought so. What I’m trying to say is that it’s fine to not know. This is why I’ve never been fond of labels.”</p><p>Chanyeol nods. “You’re right.”</p><p>“Well, now that this is settled, the offer still stands. Would you like to join me at the tavern?”</p><p>Chanyeol ends up agreeing, since he doesn’t really have another option — Baekhyun has now figured out that he isn’t truly in a hurry to go home. And Baekhyun is right; Chanyeol doesn’t know how to describe his attraction to Baekhyun and it’s too early to let this get into his head. He’s certain of one thing: He likes spending time with Baekhyun… and maybe with time he’ll figure things out.</p><p>(Plus, he’s supposed to follow Baekhyun around for his assignment. It’s only with continuous reminders that he remembers his original purpose.)</p><p> </p><p>A different atmosphere characterizes the tavern this time around. There’s no baijiu, which is fortunate since Chanyeol doesn’t want a repeat of being blackout drunk. Sitting on the large table in the middle of the tavern are several old-fashioned desktop computers and a digital map of Koryo. Instead of a warm-hearted greeting, Baekhyun’s friends acknowledge their entrance with a somber nod. This is serious. A few of the people eye Chanyeol warily. His fight-or-flight instinct switches on.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Chanyeol whispers, sticking close by Baekhyun’s side.</p><p>“You’ll see,” Baekhyun reassures him. “Just stay by me.”</p><p>“Baekhyun, you’re here.” A man who Chanyeol recognizes from last time as Joongi approaches them. Joongi gestures with his head at Chanyeol. “What’s he doing here?”</p><p>“<em>Chanyeol</em>,” Baekhyun emphasizes his name, “is with me. Don’t worry about it. Let’s all sit down.”</p><p>Baekhyun takes a seat at the head of the table. Though the chairs next to him are occupied by Yixing and Seulgi, after whispering in Seulgi’s ear, she nods and shifts one spot to the right. Chanyeol fills her original seat.</p><p>As soon as every seat is occupied, they begin discussing. Chanyeol doesn’t do much talking. He listens intently, trying to piece together the situation.</p><p>There will be an attack on Port Jesan, located in the Third District, in two months. Drones will be on the frontline to take out the human guards. The best fighters will be on the second line, to take down the ships carrying food imports from the Mideast. Baekhyun will lead that group, which consists of everyone who Chanyeol met at the tavern last time. Yixing and Seulgi will be his right-hand man and woman. Meanwhile, a cyberattack will shut down robots, androids, artificial intelligence, and other electronic and network-dependent devices.</p><p>Today’s meeting is focused on the second-line offense. Baekhyun takes control of the digital map and draws out their potential route of attack: through the Fourth District to Sogul Bay, located at the border of the Third and Fourth District. From there, they will swim to a submarine, which will take them out to sea about a mile away from where the ship will be. For the last stretch of distance to the ship, they will swim.</p><p>“How are we going to get through the Fourth District?” Taeyong asks.</p><p>Baekhyun crosses his arms. “That’s the main issue we’re having. Does anyone have any ideas?”</p><p>“Aren’t you supposed to have this all figured out? You’re supposed to be in charge.” Joongi says skeptically.</p><p>“Aren’t we supposed to collaborate? The entire point is that we all hate unilateral decision making.” Baekhyun counters with a tilt of the head. Joongi shuts up at that.</p><p>“If anyone has any ideas, please feel free to share,” adds Yixing.</p><p>“Seulgi, click the button on the top of the map,” orders Baekhyun.</p><p>She obeys. Several orange dots flood the map’s otherwise dark-colored surface, like stars glowing on a clear night sky.</p><p>“These are all surveillance cameras set by the Consulate. If we cross in front of them, we’re fucked.” Baekhyun frowns.</p><p>“Can’t the cyberattack take care of them?” Seungwan inquires. “Disable them temporarily.”</p><p>“No, that would be too obvious.” Baekhyun shakes his head. “It would immediately alert the Consulate. And as much faith I have in the cyberattackers, they won’t be able to disable all the cameras. The Consulate has emergency ones that can’t be reached.”</p><p>“One interesting thing to note is that the cameras only start a few blocks into the Fourth District,” observes Seulgi. “So, we can get in, we just need to find a way through.”</p><p>“Can we go through air?” Taeyong asks.</p><p>Baekhyun shoots him an incredulous look. “First of all, where would we get the resources for that? Second, it’s not a good idea to fly when there aren’t any other planes or vehicles in the air. It would be like seeing an extinct bird. We’d get shot down in an instant.”</p><p>The table grows quiet, everyone turning inwards to ponder for a solution.</p><p>Chanyeol drops his eyes as he processes the situation. He knows Baekhyun is different from his previous Hunting assignments. That was made clear from the very beginning, everything about Baekhyun triggered red lights that screamed <em>danger</em>. But Chanyeol thought that Baekhyun’s uniqueness stemmed from his heightened physical abilities. He didn’t realize that Baekhyun had an entire plan and crew to throw over the Consulate. Chanyeol’s previous targets were people that simply pissed off a Consulate member or refused to follow Koryo law, and their misdeeds paled in comparison to Baekhyun.</p><p>“What about going underground?” Joongi suggests.</p><p>Baekhyun’s eyes light up at the idea. “Please elaborate.”</p><p>“We could go through the sewer system. That would avoid the surveillance cameras, and take us right to Sogul Bay… I think.”</p><p>A smile slowly blossoms on Baekhyun’s face. “Genius. Seulgi, could you pull up the map of the Fourth District sewer system?”</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>A labyrinth of pipes and tunnels appears on the digital screen. But the map doesn’t display any locations for how to get inside.</p><p>“Wait a minute.” Joongi turns to Chanyeol. “You’re from the Fourth District.”</p><p>Chanyeol nods slowly. “Yes, I am…”</p><p>“Then you could show us how to get into the sewer system,” says Joongi.</p><p>“Mm… I don’t know. I’m not familiar with it,” Chanyeol professes. He’s only here to collect information, not help with the insurgency.</p><p>“You don’t have to become familiar with the sewer system. Just help us find a way into the Fourth District. Or you don’t even have to do that, just help us find where one manhole is.”</p><p>Chanyeol gives an uneasy expression and looks at Baekhyun for consolation.</p><p>“Joongi, just let it go. I’ll figure something out, with or without Chanyeol,” Baekhyun intervenes. “Chanyeol, why don’t you go over to the bar and get a drink?” His question is less of a request and more of an order.</p><p>Chanyeol is caught off guard by this. He wants to protest but decides against it; he understands that he’s a burden, and the longer he stays the more Joongi will get angry at Baekhyun.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hey Chanyeol, you’re back.” Junmyeon greets Chanyeol with a wide grin plastered on his face. “What can I get for you today?”</p><p>Chanyeol slumps into a high stool. “You should surprise me. As long as it’s not too harsh.”</p><p>“Surprise it is then.” Junmyeon begins to pour the drink. “So, did you come with Baekhyun?”</p><p>“Yeah, but I don’t think he wants me to be with him right now.” Chanyeol can’t help but show a hint of disappointment in his voice.</p><p>“I’m sure that’s not the case. They’re just discussing classified information.”</p><p>Chanyeol raises his brows. “You know what they’re talking about?” He didn’t think that Junmyeon of all people would know.</p><p>“Vaguely. There are rumors of a revolt, but I don’t know the details.”</p><p>“Aren’t they worried that their plans will get leaked? They’re meeting in a public space…”</p><p>“Not really. Everyone here dislikes the Consulate to a certain degree. And Baekhyun’s name alone is enough to make sure no one snitches.”</p><p>Chanyeol lowers his voice, deciding that this is the perfect opportunity to learn about Baekhyun, even if he can’t observe the rebel directly. “I keep hearing things about Baekhyun. Is he actually that powerful?”</p><p>Junmyeon pauses his drink-making. “<em>Yes</em>. Way more than you think. You have only seen a fraction of what he’s capable of in terms of fighting. Rumor has it that as a child, he killed a pack of ravenous wolves with just a knife.”</p><p>Chanyeol recalls the conversation that he had with Sehun, about how a child was put in a pen of starving wolves to fight to the death.</p><p>“There are so many stories. He used to hunt coyotes with his bare hands and eat him. He mutilated a dozen bandits armed with rifles when he was just a skinny teen. He can turn all the lights off on a street with just a blink of the eye. These are rumors of course, but rumors have to start from somewhere. And it’s not only that. You know that aura he has — you just want to obey him.”</p><p>Chanyeol nods, aware of the aura’s effect, but even more aware that Baekhyun has said that Chanyeol is disobedient. “Has anything happened to people who disobey him?” he asks, suddenly worried for his own life.</p><p>“If it’s not severe, he’ll make you regret it. I don’t know anyone who has disobeyed him severely yet.” Junmyeon leans in close. “You know, he warned me the other day to not try anything with you. I’ve never witnessed him do that before. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on between you two?”</p><p>Chanyeol is surprised to hear that Baekhyun has talked about him at all in the absence of his presence. For a moment, his heart jumps to his throat. Maybe Baekhyun wants him as much as he wants Baekhyun. Maybe, what’s between them can turn into something <em>more</em>. But then he recalls their earlier conversation, when Chanyeol couldn’t put his feelings toward Baekhyun into words.</p><p>He lets out a long sigh. “To be honest, I have no idea… We actually had this conversation earlier today, but it seemed like I was the only one overthinking it.”</p><p>Junmyeon returns an understanding look. “Baekhyun is very complicated and he isn’t one to express his true emotions. But trust me, I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s never brought an outsider into the tavern, let alone invite them to a meeting like this.”</p><p>“Yeah, but that’s not really a big deal,” Chanyeol says dispiritedly. “I was the one who asked to come.”</p><p>“No Chanyeol, you don’t understand. I can see things from my spot at the bar that you can’t.”</p><p>Chanyeol is skeptical. “I spend a lot of time staring at Baekhyun, and he doesn’t look much at me unless he’s talking to me directly.”</p><p>“It’s not about how long or how many times he looks at you,” Junmyeon says exasperatedly. “It’s about how he acts. He looks out for you. He always makes sure you’re next to him. I’m sure you know how he doesn’t like to be touched without warning by others, except for Yixing who’s his best friend. But he let you sleep on his shoulder. He probably sent you here because he thought you were uncomfortable.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>Junmyeon doesn’t let him speak. “And when you were drunk, he insisted on carrying you back to his house without any help.”</p><p>“That’s not true. He told me that he and Yixing both carried me.”</p><p>“Then Baekhyun was lying. Yixing offered, but he told everyone to go home.”</p><p>Chanyeol wants to trust Junmyeon, but his words sound too good to be true. “How do you know all of this?”</p><p>Junmyeon shrugs. “I get bored back here, so I like to observe. I have a good vantage point of the rest of the tavern. And Seulgi likes to gossip about you two.”</p><p>Of course Seulgi likes to gossip about them. Chanyeol almost chuckles, feeling slightly more relieved than before.</p><p>“Here you go.” Junmyeon finally finishes the drink and slides it across the table.</p><p>Chanyeol lifts the glass to his nose gently and takes a whiff. “What is this?”</p><p>“Soju, another popular drink from the Old Era. It’s not as strong as baijiu and I diluted it for you. Be careful though, too many shots and the effect will hit you like a hammer in the most unexpected places.”</p><p>“Noted,” Chanyeol says as he raises the glass to his lips. He downs it in one shot. The liquid is cool on his tongue, bitter but with a sweet undertaste. He sets the glass back down with a solid clink, feeling satisfied.</p><p>Junmyeon is a nice conversationalist. From him, Chanyeol learns about the Fifth District’s formation. Those who did not want to conform to the Consulate’s rule during the formation of Koryo were exiled as Outcasts. The Consulate gave them relative freedom, as long as they didn’t disrupt the rest of Koryo’s operations. The Fifth District also houses rebel refugees, outlaws, and people who suffered bankruptcy and can no longer afford living in even the Fourth District. Once you become an Outcast, it is impossible to move up a caste and return to the center of Koryo. In return, Chanyeol shares details about life in the Fourth District.</p><p>It is with the help of Junmyeon and soju that Chanyeol takes his mind off Baekhyun, even if it is only for an evening.</p><p> </p><p>A week later, Baekhyun invites Chanyeol home after training. Though he’s already been to Baekhyun’s house multiple times before, Chanyeol has to suppress his enthusiasm when he agrees.</p><p>But his excitement tapers off when they arrive and Baekhyun turns to look at him with a serious face.</p><p>“Chanyeol, I want to ask something of you.” Baekhyun’s usual mischievousness is gone. This stirs an uneasiness in Chanyeol.</p><p>“Okay… usually you just ask straight away.”</p><p>“I know. But this is something more important.” He bites his lip, like he’s phrasing what he’s about to say in his head first. “You were there last week when we were talking about the insurgency. Joongi was right, we need someone to guide us to a manhole to get into the sewer.” Baekhyun tilts his head, like he’s expecting Chanyeol to volunteer to help.</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t want to. “Well I hope you find someone,” he says.</p><p>“Come on. Chanyeol, please,” Baekhyun pleads in a steady voice.</p><p>“I thought you were going to find a solution with or without me.”</p><p>“I thought I could, but my physical strength can only get so far.” Baekhyun purses his lips and adds, “I also said that because I didn’t want Joongi to put you in an uncomfortable position.”</p><p>“But you’re putting me in an uncomfortable position now,” Chanyeol points out.</p><p>“I know.” Baekhyun sounds apologetic. “I have no other choice. We brainstormed for days and there’s no other option. You’re our last hope.”</p><p>Chanyeol chooses his next words carefully, not wanting to offend Baekhyun. “I know that whatever this insurgency is about, it’s really important to you, but I don’t think I can help. I don’t even know much about this whole situation. What will happen if the Consulate finds out? I don’t think you could trust me.” <em>I’m supposed to kill you, not help you. </em></p><p>Baekhyun takes a step closer to Chanyeol. “I’m not asking you to support the movement. Just think of it as a favor, between the two of us. The Consulate won’t find out.”</p><p>Chanyeol takes a step back. “I’m sorry Baekhyun. I can’t detach this as a favor when I already know what will happen next. I came here to learn to fight, not help with your… revenge plot.”</p><p>“This is not <em>just</em> a revenge plot, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun hisses. “And it is certainly not just mine. So many people have denounced Koryo’s government. The Consulate and its entire system are treacherous. You can’t see it because you’ve been subject to brainwashing your entire life.”</p><p>“You’re wrong,” Chanyeol objects. “I know that Koryo is being brainwashed and that the Consulate tells more lies than truths. I know that people are suffering. But what can we do about it? Sometimes ignorance is bliss and turning a blind eye is necessary. We can’t change anything. If we try, we’ll be killed.”</p><p>Baekhyun shakes his head. “You don’t get it, do you? The Consulate may be powerful, but not powerful enough. It’s breaking. There are internal fractures even among the Consulate members. There’s also international backlash from other nations, led by Usonia. Koryo might be technologically ahead of Usonia, but that doesn’t mean it’s invincible.”</p><p>All this information is new to Chanyeol, but he doesn’t waiver. “Fine. Even if that’s true — which I don’t think it is — why are you doing this? You can still get killed.”</p><p>“I fight to defend what I think is right, remember? If I need to die, then I will,” Baekhyun enunciates each word. “But I’m still alive today, so I know I will live.”</p><p>Baekhyun must have noticed the way Chanyeol’s eyes searched him curiously. The rebel sighs, motioning for Chanyeol to take a seat at the small round table. “Sit down, I will tell you my story.”</p><p>Chanyeol prepares to listen intently because this is the moment he’s been waiting for; the perfect opportunity to learn who Baekhyun truly is.</p><p> </p><p>“My first memory dates back to when I was two years old. You think that’s amazing, don’t you? That I can remember so much? Well, you’re wrong. Sometimes I think that it would be better if I could just hit my head on a rock and forget my childhood ever happened. Believe me, I’ve tried. But those fuckers programmed me to remember every detail since <em>that day</em>.</p><p>“That day, I stood in line for hours with several other children my age, waiting for my turn to go one of three rooms. They had us all stand outside in a dark hallway like little prisoners. We didn’t know what was going to happen to us. They just told us that they were giving us a treat so we could stay healthy. Of course I believed them, I was just two. I waited so patiently, so sure that I would get a cookie or something.</p><p>“A <em>cookie</em>.” Baekhyun laughs coldly, making Chanyeol’s skin crawl. “I was an idiot for ever thinking that. Like a fool, I kept trying to get a peek inside a room to see what flavor the cookies were. When a scientist slipped out of one of those rooms, I nearly snapped my neck trying to search for the cookies. There were no fucking cookies, there wasn’t even a treat. All I saw was a child strapped onto a chair with scientists surrounding him. His head was cut open. I could see his brain and the scientists were injecting something into it. I never told anyone else what I saw, but I will <em>never</em> forget that image.</p><p>“For years, I never saw the light of day. They kept us somewhere in a building, and I didn’t even know that a world outside existed. Every day, we would go through combat exercises to boost our physical strength. They had us shoot targets, crawl across jagged rocks, run across a room while having arrows shot at us. Once they tied us up and threw us into a pool to train our lung capacity. Every month, an official-looking man would come examine us with a series of tests to see how fast, strong, and tall we had gotten. We would have tournaments where we fought each other until someone was knocked out. The prize? Extra food rations for the rest of the month.” It scares Chanyeol how calmly Baekhyun speaks, how unphased he is at his own life.</p><p>“We never complained. Everyone had to go through the same thing, so nobody questioned it. None of us were close to each other either. We treated each other like competitors, because that’s what the adults made us think. There was no time for friends when we were clawing at each other’s throat, just for extra <em>food</em>. We were nothing but animals. When we weren’t fighting, they locked us in our own rooms.</p><p>“When I was seven years old, everything changed. A boy, his name was Seunghoon, during the monthly examination, he went berserk on the man who came to examine us. We were all watching him shoot targets, and suddenly he turned to the man and shot him in the head.” Baekhyun is gripping the side of the table now, as though he might fall off his chair if he lets go.</p><p>“It was so fast. No one had time to intercept the bullets. There were tears streaming down his face as he shot them. We just stared, not sure what was happening. They took Seunghoon away after that. Everyone was too afraid to ask where he had gone. I never saw him again.</p><p>“We continued our training sessions as if it had never happened, as if Seunghoon never existed. The next month, a new examiner replaced the old one. He didn’t last long. Some other kid turned on him. She too disappeared without a trace. Soon, some of the kids started resisting the scientists.”</p><p>Baekhyun is rushing his words, hardly breathing between sentences, as though he didn’t want to elaborate because he didn’t want to relive the memories.</p><p>“I didn’t dare sleep. I was so terrified and knew something was wrong. What if next time, someone shot me? What if I was the next one to go crazy? I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. For the first time, I started talking to some of the other kids and found a few that were just as scared as me. We formed a bond built on fear and we were determined to find out what was going on.</p><p>“We planned to sneak out of our rooms at night to find the scientists’ office room. Actually, ‘plan’ is an overstatement. We didn’t have a damn clue what we were doing and we didn’t get far. In the hallway, we heard muffled screaming coming from one of the rooms. We ignored it and just continued walking, but we heard more screaming, and then sudden silence. Right in front of us, an adult came out of a kid’s room with a gun in hand. It didn’t take long for us to put two and two together.</p><p>“I ran for my life. I didn’t know where I was going, where the exit was, or if there was even an exit at all. At some point I lost my friends, but I kept going. The hallways were like a maze. They all looked the same, and I swore I was going in circles. Eventually, one of the guards caught sight of me.</p><p>Baekhyun pats his shoulder blade. “He shot me here but I didn’t feel a thing. All I did was run.</p><p>“At some point I realized that the hallways weren’t getting me anywhere, so I ducked into a room. I surveyed my surroundings, thinking that there <em>must</em> be an exit, but I couldn’t find anything. Soon I heard the door to the room open and I knew that I was on the verge of death. I didn’t have time to think. I made one last desperate attempt — I ran straight through the wall. Surprisingly, my body tore a hole right through it. I was met with a rush of cold, fresh air, and all I could do was stand still.</p><p>“The guard took this opportunity to fire another bullet, which thankfully missed me by just a few centimeters. I didn’t have time to think about the new world that I had discovered before I began to run again. I just knew that I had to get away, as far as possible. I ran for hours until the night fell, and I passed out right there on the ground.</p><p>“I woke up to the sunrise. Now that I no longer had to run for my life, I could finally pay attention to my surroundings. I had never seen something so beautiful. For seven years, I had lived in darkness—”</p><p>“Hold on,” Chanyeol interrupts with a confused face. “Didn’t you say you got shot? What about the blood?”</p><p>Baekhyun smiles at this question. “Ah, yes. Asking the important questions. Here’s the thing. I’m genetically engineered to not bleed for long. My body responds fast to injuries and heals itself.”</p><p>Chanyeol’s mouth drops in awe.</p><p>“Where was I? Oh right,” Baekhyun continues with a hopeful voice. “For seven years, I had lived in darkness, never knowing that there was a world outside of that building. I didn’t know that there could be colors so vibrant, or that there didn’t have to be a ceiling. I stared at the sky until the sun rose into the sky. I had no plans, but for some reason I was fearless.</p><p>“My first instinct was that I had to find a way to survive. Because I had been sheltered my entire life, I didn’t give a crap about social norms nor did I have a moral conscience. The rumors you heard about me probably originated during this period. In the Fifth District, there weren’t many other animals roaming around and I couldn’t afford food to eat.  I killed wolves and coyotes with just a stick, and then devoured them. When I was desperate, I dug in garbage piles to find scanty leftovers, which were few given that the Fifth District has always struggled with food insecurity.</p><p>“A few years later I had settled in as best as I could. In the Fifth District, owning land is not an issue. If you have materials to build a home, you will have a place to stay. I built this home when I was just ten years old. Now that I no longer had to worry about dying each day, I began to think back to my younger years. It’s funny now that I say it — I was just ten but thinking about my childhood.” Baekhyun throws his head back and chuckles. “I had tried my best not to think about that night for such a long time. It took me three years for me to come to terms that it had even happened in the first place. I knew that I had been created for the purpose of fighting… but for who? Why did they need us? I realized I didn’t even know who the adults that kept us there were. I couldn’t go back to that place — that laboratory — either, since that night I hadn’t tried to keep track of my route.</p><p>“By chance a few years later, I overheard a conversation that began to uncover my past. I was in the tavern and two people were talking about how a posh man had appeared suddenly in the Fifth District searching for a young boy with exceptional strength. There was a hefty reward for whoever turned the boy in. They referred to him as a member of the ‘Consulate.’ I knew instantly that the Consulate were the people who had created me. I vaguely remembered that term being thrown around a few times when I was younger, but back then I never questioned what it meant.</p><p>“I used to wonder, why did no one turn me in to that man? Why would someone not take the opportunity to get out of the grueling position of being an Outcast? But after spending more time in the Fifth District, I learned that here, the number one rule is to distrust the wealthy and the powerful.</p><p>“A young man appeared at my door one day, demanding to speak to me. Of course I said no at first, since I obviously wouldn’t let a random stranger into my house. But he wouldn’t go away, and he insisted that he knew where I had come from, so at last I agreed. This was how I met Joongi. Joongi told me that he knew people in the Consulate and that he heard I was their clone experiment, designed for their military purposes. I didn’t believe him at first — why would children be useful in a military that had already shifted to technology and artificial intelligence? He explained that we were designed to have human appearances so that we could raid civilian locations in neighboring countries and force them under Koryo rule. I was a part of a special operations force unit that was supposed to assassinate foreign leaders during diplomatic meetings.</p><p>“I didn’t want to believe him. You can imagine why. To learn that my entire life purpose was to bring destruction and to kill people… what was I supposed to do with that information?” He presses his lips into a thin line before speaking again. “At first, I blamed myself for being used as just a weapon and I hated myself for not knowing anything. I hated my naivety. I hated how powerless I was. I was filled with <em>so much anger</em>.</p><p>“Later when I was mentally capable enough to sift through all the information, I realized that I was a victim, not a perpetrator. I may not be able to change my past, but I could redirect my blame to the Consulate. Nothing I do is about revenge, this is about creating the future I want to live in.</p><p>“This is my story, the reason why I’m willing to fight against the Consulate at any cost, even my life. Other people have their own reasons for joining the movement. Today though, I’m only sharing my own experience. I’m sure that with time, you will have the opportunity to hear theirs too.”</p><p>Chanyeol knew that Baekhyun’s history would be bad. But not this bad. “I’m sorry,” he croaks, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He still has questions, but he understands now why Baekhyun is so vehemently against the Consulate. He also understands why the Consulate has named such a high price for Baekhyun’s head.</p><p>“Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault.”</p><p>“I’m sorry for not believing you. What you went through… I had no idea that they were so cruel.”</p><p>“Cruel is a bit of an understatement,” Baekhyun remarks and he clenches his fist once before letting his hand fall limply onto the tabletop. “Does this mean that you’ll help us now?” he asks hopefully.</p><p>Chanyeol sighs apologetically. “As much as I’m sympathetic for your cause, I’m not sure. I don’t live far away from the Consulate’s surveillance like you all. My life is still dependent on them.”</p><p>Surprisingly, Baekhyun nods. “I get it. I won’t force you, but please keep thinking about it?”</p><p>“Yeah, I will.” Chanyeol places his hand atop Baekhyun’s in an act of reassurance. Baekhyun flinches, but Chanyeol keeps his hand steady. They stay like that for a while in a comfortable silence.</p><p>“Can I tell you something?” Baekhyun asks in barely a whisper.</p><p>“Mhm,” Chanyeol hums as he draws circles on Baekhyun’s hand.</p><p>“I’m tired,” Baekhyun says in a voice so fragile it sounds like it’s going to break. Chanyeol stops drawing circles and looks up. Baekhyun stares at Chanyeol with navy blue eyes that swirl like ocean currents. “This is all exhausting. I just want to hibernate.”</p><p>“It’s okay to be tired. Remember, you don’t always have to be invincible.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“No buts, no exceptions. I don’t care how special you are. Everyone is allowed to be tired. What matters is that you let others share some of the burden.”</p><p>“I don’t think I can do that,” Baekhyun admits. “No one can share the same burden as me. No one has gone through my experiences. No one knows what it’s like to be just a weapon, not even considered a human.”</p><p>“Baekhyun, people don’t have to undergo the exact same experiences to understand your pain. While we may not know what you’re feeling exactly, that doesn’t mean we can’t help you.” Chanyeol squeezes Baekhyun’s hand. “We can mitigate some of that burden. When you’re tired, we can take on a larger role in your life. Don’t be afraid to take breaks. Without your health and wellbeing, the insurgency is nothing.”</p><p>“I’m not dying, Chanyeol. I’ll be fine without a break. I’m just tired, that’s all. I have to go to the tavern now.”</p><p>“No,” Chanyeol uses a warning tone. “You need to learn how to open yourself up and take care of yourself. You’re tired. Get some rest. I’ll explain to them that you can’t be there, and I’m sure they will understand.” He stands up and prepares to leave.</p><p>“Wait, don’t leave,” Baekhyun calls out, snatching Chanyeol’s wrist. “I’ll explain it to them tomorrow. Can you… stay here with me? I like your company.”</p><p>“Of course.” Chanyeol smiles sweetly.  He likes this feeling of being needed by Baekhyun.</p><p>Before he can sit back down, Baekhyun takes his hand and drags him away from the living room. He leads Chanyeol into his bed.</p><p>“You want to sleep?” Chanyeol asked, a bit perplexed.</p><p>“No. I want you to spoon me,” Baekhyun orders.</p><p>“W-what?” Chanyeol splutters.</p><p>Baekhyun furrows his brows. “Be my big spoon. Do you not know what that is?”</p><p>“I do,” Chanyeol says, though he’s never done it before. “I just didn’t expect you to be so direct about it.”</p><p>“You know I’m direct,” Baekhyun smiles teasingly. He turns so that his back presses against Chanyeol’s chest.</p><p>Chanyeol slides his arm underneath Baekhyun’s and rests his chin on Baekhyun’s shoulder. It takes him by surprise when Baekhyun hugs his arm and stretches his legs out, entangling their legs together.</p><p>“Now you can’t escape from me,” Baekhyun laughs. “I won’t be able to freak out when I wake up and find that you’re gone.”</p><p>Chanyeol pouts. “I wouldn’t leave you randomly like that.”</p><p>“That’s what they all say.” Baekhyun squeezes his arm tighter. “But in the end, they always end up leaving.”</p><p>“Who?” Chanyeol asks out of curiosity. “If you don’t mind sharing, that is.”</p><p>“No one important. Past lovers and such,” Baekhyun replies nonchalantly.</p><p>This piques Chanyeol’s interest. It didn’t occur to him that Baekhyun could have dated people. “Could you tell me more?”</p><p>Baekhyun sounds relieved that Chanyeol asks, like he’s been waiting for someone to confide in. “They wanted me because they were intrigued by the stories that they heard. They wanted to see for themselves… like I was some exotic animal.”</p><p>Baekhyun stops at that, but Chanyeol can tell that he wants to keep talking. “Go on,” Chanyeol encourages.</p><p>“One of them told me he loved me. He said he didn’t care who I was, that he would never leave me no matter how hard it got. He said it with such sincerity that I believed him. But he left too, just like the others when they realized how hard it is to stay with a wanted dissident.” Chanyeol can’t see Baekhyun’s face but his voice is lined with a hard edge. “Maybe I’ll tell you the details later, if you stick around for long enough. But let’s just say they are the reason I don’t like to put labels on anything. Once I label something, then I begin to get attached.”</p><p>“They were assholes. I’ll stay by your side, as long as you want me to.” Chanyeol says. But if Baekhyun’s exes were assholes, what does that make him? He might not leave Baekhyun, but he will be the reason that Baekhyun leaves the world. When that moment comes, will he even be able to kill Baekhyun? And even if he can’t, how would he explain himself? Baekhyun will be the one leaving him. </p><p>“And how can I trust you?” Baekhyun asks, and there’s a hint of desire in his voice. Chanyeol realizes that Baekhyun <em>wants </em>to trust him.</p><p>“Even after you told me everything, I’m still here, aren’t I?” Chanyeol whispers into Baekhyun’s ear. “You’re strong. I don’t think you’d let me leave that easily.”</p><p>“You’re right about that. For the others, a part of me secretly wanted them to leave. I knew they were bad for me. But you’re different. You… I think you’re good, and you try to make me a good person too.”</p><p>“You have too much faith in me.”</p><p>“No, I think I’m right with this. I might not have been born a human, but I’m good at telling apart good and bad people. It’s already difficult enough for me to talk about topics like these, so when I say you’re good, I mean it.”</p><p>At this, Chanyeol hugs Baekhyun tighter. “I think you’re a good person too, regardless of what you were created for. And your heart is more human than so many people.”</p><p>“Thanks, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun mumbles.</p><p>Chanyeol hums in response. Quiet subsumes them and suddenly his eyelids are heavy. Chanyeol falls asleep to Baekhyun’s steady breathing, with their legs entangled together now a reality.</p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol awakens to something warm and wet against his neck. It takes time for his eyes to adjust to the room’s dim yellow lighting. Baekhyun has turned around to face him, gently sucking his neck while gripping the collar of his shirt.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Chanyeol asks as he arches his head back. It’s too early for this. Chanyeol’s mouth still tastes grimy and his eyes are still sticky with sleep.</p><p>“Shhh,” Baekhyun hushes and presses a kiss against Chanyeol’s lips, effectively shutting him up. Still drowsy, Chanyeol tries to kiss back but Baekhyun pulls backward, resisting. “Not now,” Baekhyun says in between labored breaths. “Let me take care of you.”</p><p>Baekhyun begins to push Chanyeol’s shirt, tugging it upward and over his head. Baekhyun’s fingers are quick and confident as they roam around Chanyeol’s bare chest, exploring before he presses hot kisses on Chanyeol's skin.</p><p>At first Chanyeol thinks this must be another one of his sensual dreams, and he closes his eyes to relish it, hoping it lasts as long as possible. But then he feels a slight knob of pain on his collarbone when Baekhyun takes Chanyeol’s skin in between his teeth, sucking hard. Chanyeol’s fingers clench around a blanket and he lets out a soft moan. This is too realistic, too physically demanding to be just a night vision. Suddenly he’s wide awake as he registers what’s happening.</p><p>His first instinct is to pull away from an overwhelming sense of danger. Years of Bounty Hunting mean his body is automatically accustomed to categorizing everyone else as an enemy. But then he catches Baekhyun’s earnest eyes, so piercing that they swallow him whole, and Chanyeol realizes that he wants this — they both want it. And what’s fun without a little danger?</p><p>Baekhyun has made his way down to Chanyeol’s defined abdomen. “Nice abs,” he comments. “Looks like all those strength-building exercises have worked.”</p><p>“Looks like you’re enjoying the product that you created,” Chanyeol jokes, surprising himself with his own confident demeanor.</p><p>“Mhm,” Baekhyun mutters before tracing the ridges in Chanyeol’s abs with his tongue.</p><p>Baekhyun tugs on the waistband of Chanyeol’s shorts and cocks his head, a silent ask of permission. Chanyeol only needs to nod once before Baekhyun eagerly slides them down his long legs. Chanyeol, already semi-hard, feels a great freedom at the cool air that envelops his exposed legs. It’s been a while since he’s done something like this.</p><p>Baekhyun asks, “You sure you’re okay with this?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Chanyeol grunts. He’s more than okay; he wants this — <em>needs</em> this. Everything is unbearably hot, his body itching to release pent up energy. He doesn’t want to take it slow, he wants to be inside Baekhyun <em>now</em>, but Baekhyun is the one in control here.</p><p>At last his underwear comes off. Baekhyun is quick to wrap his pretty fingers around Chanyeol’s shaft and, though his fingers are delicate, his grip is firm as he strokes Chanyeol’s length. Chanyeol can still hardly believe this is real — he’s fantasized about Baekhyun’s hands for days, getting turned on just by the image of his slender fingers decorated with chunky rings. But now, Baekhyun’s fingers are around <em>him</em>, working their magic. Chanyeol’s legs tremble as he searches for something to grip, hands making his way into Baekhyun’s hair.</p><p>Baekhyun spits on Chanyeol’s tip before taking it with his tender lips, tongue drawing circles around the head of Chanyeol’s cock. And then he takes it whole into his mouth, head bobbing up and down to a steady rhythm. Chanyeol’s back arches and he thrusts in Baekhyun’s mouth, moaning in pleasure as he grabs Baekhyun’s hair.</p><p>Suddenly Baekhyun stops and Chanyeol fears that he’s about to be blue-balled. But Baekhyun just reaches underneath his bed and takes out a bottle of lube and a condom. Chanyeol gives him a bewildered look.</p><p>“What? I’m just prepared,” Baekhyun smirks and hands over the material to Chanyeol. While Chanyeol preps himself, Baekhyun undresses.</p><p>Despite being a bottom, Baekhyun likes to take control and Chanyeol lets him. He kneels on top of Chanyeol with legs spread apart and hands reaching back to grip Chanyeol’s thighs tightly. By now, Chanyeol’s cock is throbbing painfully, and the image of Baekhyun on top of him glistening with sweat and smirking like the devil, isn’t helping.</p><p>All Chanyeol feels is relief when Baekhyun slides himself on top of his dick and begins to rock his hips up and down. He grabs onto Baekhyun’s ass and adds thrusts of his own, noting with delight at how Baekhyun shivers and rolls his name off his tongue. At that moment, he decides that he doesn’t want Baekhyun to call anyone else’s name.</p><p>“Baekhyun, let me—”</p><p>“Hush,” Baekhyun leans forward and quiets him up with a kiss, nibbling on Chanyeol’s bottom lip. “No talking.” Baekhyun replaces his lips with his hand, and Chanyeol thinks that if they had gags, Baekhyun wouldn’t hesitate to use them.</p><p>At this thought, Chanyeol lets out a ferocious growl. With one sudden burst of desirous energy, he flips them around, practically throwing Baekhyun onto the bed so that Chanyeol’s on top, pounding into Baekhyun and basking in Baekhyun’s cries of delight. Chanyeol explores Baekhyun’s body like it's the eighth wonder of the world. His hands travel down Baekhyun’s waist and hips, and kneads his ass, deliberately pressing down hard enough to leave marks. Chanyeol doesn’t know what has overtaken him. After days spent getting pummeled in the fighting ring, he wants Baekhyun to know his strength. Whatever he does, Baekhyun won’t get hurt, so he might as well go full out.</p><p>They come at the same time, still wrapped in each other’s embrace. Though they are both sticky with sweat and semen, none of them have the strength to get out of bed to clean up. Even Baekhyun who can knock a dozen people out with his bare hands claims that his legs are too sore to function. And so, Baekhyun shows Chanyeol a little trick that he can do. With a snap of his fingers, the lights turn off, plunging them into darkness.</p><p> </p><p>For the rest of the week, Chanyeol doesn’t head home straight after their morning training sessions. They skip lunch; Baekhyun is insistent that he’s not hungry despite Chanyeol’s protests. Instead they head straight for Baekhyun’s bed. Sometimes they just sleep, with Chanyeol as the big spoon despite Baekhyun’s dominant personality. Other times they throw the covers over their head and make out until it gets too stuffy and toss the blanket aside, gasping for air. Every day, Chanyeol is reluctant to leave and Baekhyun’s reluctant to let him leave, but eventually Baekhyun sends him off otherwise he’ll be late for the tavern. Sometimes Chanyeol tags along. He always leaves with a promise of coming back the next day.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Jongwoon’s call comes as anticipated. Chanyeol knew it would come sooner or later. It has been five weeks since the assignment was given. The usual mission takes only two weeks, and even for someone as dangerous as Baekhyun, four weeks is stretching it. Especially when Chanyeol has already found Baekhyun, which means he’s already had five weeks to find the right time to make the move.</p><p>“This is Kim Jongwoon. Please come to my office — <em>now</em>.”</p><p>Once again, Chanyeol finds himself seated on a chair as Jongwoon circles around him, putting him in his place of inferiority.</p><p>“Mr. Park, you already know why I have called you here,” Jongwoon drawls.</p><p>Chanyeol tries to stay calm. “Sir, I can explain. I’ve been following Baekhyun around for the past few weeks and he’s always with other people. I just haven’t found the right time —”</p><p>“Enough!” Jongwoon slaps the back of Chanyeol’s chair. “There is no way that you haven’t seen Baekhyun alone for five entire weeks. I don’t care what your excuse is. All I care about is that he’s <em>dead</em>.”</p><p>Chanyeol bows his head. “I understand.”</p><p>“No, I don’t think you do,” Jongwoon counters. “The longer Baekhyun is alive, the danger Koryo faces exponentially increases. We hired you because of your extraordinary capabilities, but you haven’t been living up to your full potential.” He crouches to become eye-to-eye with Chanyeol. “We’ve come to the conclusion that you need some… motivation.”</p><p>Chanyeol’s hands grow clammy. “What kind of motivation?”</p><p>“You know, natural things. By the way, you don’t seem to have many friends. The only person you spend time with is him.”  Jongwoon’s hologram interface turns on, showing the profile of a very familiar person. “Oh Sehun? Is that his name?”</p><p>Chanyeol narrows his eyes. “What does Sehun have to do with this?”</p><p>Jongwoon averts his question and scrolls through Sehun’s profile. “Fascinating, he works for the Consulate. You know, a little bird told me something interesting… a conversation that you and Sehun had at Exordium?”</p><p>“A conversation? … Oh.” Was this about the 2149 clone experiments? How could Jongwoon have known? The only person that was around them was… <em>the school girl server. </em>She snitched on them, Chanyeol was sure of it.</p><p>“It looks like you already know the topic at hand. Then you must know the dangers of talking about it in a public place like Exordium… especially for a Consulate member.”</p><p>“Yes, it was foolish of us to discuss that matter. Sir, please forgive us,” Chanyeol apologizes, deciding that it’s better to bite down his dignity than to stir Jongwoon’s wrath.</p><p>“It was foolish indeed. It’s actually a severe crime to bring up the Consulate’s confidential information to a non-Consulate member. Punishable by lifelong imprisonment, and sometimes even death.”</p><p>It clicks — Jongwoon is using Sehun to threaten him. Chanyeol looks up bewilderedly. “Please don’t bring Sehun into this. It was <em>my </em>fault, I asked for the information. Please don’t punish him. He did nothing wrong.”</p><p>Jongwoon shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that. A crime is a crime.”</p><p>Chanyeol gets down onto his knees and presses his hands together. “He was only helping me with my assignment. He doesn’t deserve to be punished for this. Please just make this one exception… I’ll do anything! Let me be punished instead.”</p><p>Jongwoon strokes his chin, thinking. He then sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. “I like your insistence. How about we reach a compromise?”</p><p>Relief floods over Chanyeol and he nods vigorously. “Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you for your kindness.”</p><p>“Bring me Baekhyun’s head in one week’s time. If you do, I’ll set Sehun free. If you fail to do so, Sehun will have a life-sentence in prison.”</p><p>“Sir, you can count on me. I won’t disappoint you.” Chanyeol agrees readily, hardly thinking about the consequences of his promise. All that’s on his mind is that he needs to save Sehun. Whatever else that comes with, he’ll worry about later.</p><p>“Good, that’s what I like to hear. And remember.” Jongwoon leans into Chanyeol’s ear. “Your mother’s life is at stake.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Chanyeol walks into the training room two hours late to Baekhyun’s narrowed eyes.</p><p>“I thought you weren’t going to show up today.” Sweat drips from Baekhyun’s hair in a strangely sexy manner and Chanyeol has to remind himself that sexual thoughts aren’t appropriate for this situation.</p><p>“Sorry, I overslept.” Chanyeol lies, hand scratching the back of his head.</p><p>Baekhyun ignores his apology. Instead of retaliating with a sarcastic remark, he says, “I thought you had left like the others.” Though his voice is seemingly steady, Chanyeol has known him long enough to detect a slight waver.</p><p>“I wouldn’t do that. I’ve kept my promise and come every day.” Chanyeol’s voice is soft when he speaks, aware that this is a sensitive topic for Baekhyun. When Baekhyun breaks out of his usual confident character, Chanyeol can’t help but feel instinctively protective.</p><p>“I know… I’m just paranoid, that’s all.” Baekhyun frowns, then shakes his head like he’s clearing his disappointment. He then flashes a sultry grin. “Let’s get out of here. I have something to show you.”</p><p> </p><p>Baekhyun leads Chanyeol past the residential section of the Fifth District and through a stretch of barren land. The sun is shining harshly and directly above them, causing Chanyeol to blink sweat out of his eyes. He has to pause, body bending forward in exhaustion and tongue licking his chapped lips.</p><p>“What is that?” With one hand, Chanyeol shields his eyes and the other points to a hill in the middle of nowhere that looms in the distance.</p><p>Baekhyun smiles with a twinkle in his eye. “You’ll see when we get there.”</p><p>The hill’s unofficial name is Aluminum Hill, which is a well-suited name because it is quite literally a mountain of metal scraps, several stories high. Baekhyun explains how every week, a truck delivery adds more metal to the pile.</p><p>“The Consulate claims that it has a sustainable way to dispose of Koryo’s garbage. That’s a lie. They just dump it all here in the Fifth District, where no one bothers to look.” Baekhyun crushes an aluminum can that has rolled off the hill with his foot.</p><p>“There’s so much stuff that could be reused,” Chanyeol exclaims. He thinks of Dara, which took him an entire year to collect the parts for. Here, he would be able to find all he needed within a week. “Why would the Consulate throw it all away?”</p><p>“They’re lazy, that’s why,” Baekhyun huffs. “When you have such cheap production because of Koryo’s caste system, why would you need to think of conservation?”</p><p>“Still,” Chanyeol shakes his head. “So impractical. I can’t believe no one knew about this.”</p><p>“There’s a lot of things that the Consulate wants to keep a secret. I don't even know many of them. But that’s not my point and we’re not here to dig through this pile of junk. Follow me.”</p><p>Baekhyun begins to make his way up the junk hill, kicking aside scraps as he walks. Chanyeol follows, occasionally lagging behind to tuck a few pieces of metal that might be useful for later in his pocket.</p><p>When they reach the top of the hill, Chanyeol’s thighs ache and his pockets are heavy. Baekhyun has to pull Chanyeol up for the very last step.</p><p>“Turn around,” Baekhyun says and Chanyeol does so carefully as to not fall off the hill. He almost does anyway when the view fills his vision, his jaw dropping.</p><p>The sun is now much lower in the sky, painting the horizon a magnificent shade of gold. From their vantage point, Koryo’s skyline is a silhouette against the sunset. The tops of the buildings are lost among yellow-tinted clouds with silver linings. Chanyeol has never put Koryo and sunset in the same sentence; his only experience with the natural sun is in the Fifth District, which he never considered as a central part of Koryo.</p><p>This is when Chanyeol changes his mind about the Fifth District being gray. He realizes now that the Fifth District was only monochrome because he wasn’t opening his eyes. He wasn’t searching for color, only accepting the gray-washed images of the Fifth District other people told him about. Now it seems so obvious that the Fifth District is more colorful and the Outcasts more human than any other district or caste in Koryo.</p><p>“How do you find sights like these?” Chanyeol asks, his voice coming out husky.</p><p>“I’m always on the quest for beauty. In a world where I was created as something ugly, it’s the best way I can cope.”</p><p>Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun, who is still staring at the sunset with a magnificent orange reflection in his eyes. “You were never ugly, Baekhyun. Maybe you were created for an ugly purpose, but that’s not on you.”</p><p>“Fine,” Baekhyun shrugs. “But you have to admit, the city is pretty ugly.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Chanyeol sighs. “I used to think the city with all its lights and technology advancements was impeccable, but that was before I saw sights like this. I guess it takes seeing the light to truly know what darkness is.”</p><p>They watch until the sun turns into a flaming ball that casts an orange glare on all of Koryo. The moment it disappears behind the horizon, the land beneath them becomes immersed into a web of shadow, but the sky is still lit up — a gradient of pastels, pale washed out colors, what tasting a daydream would look like. Their conversation fills the still night air: talks of their visions for the future, fragments of Chanyeol’s childhood memories, Baekhyun’s teasing lilt and Chanyeol’s deep laughter is the only human melody for miles around.</p><p>Chanyeol will miss moments like these the most, more than their training sessions, the spooning, and even sex. It’s when Baekhyun lets his guard down that he’s the most beautiful. It’s this Baekhyun that Chanyeol has fallen for, this Baekhyun that makes Chanyeol question his motives, the one that he cannot bear to kill… almost. On the outside Chanyeol exudes bliss, but his heart is slowly fracturing. After the sun has set, he doesn’t take his gaze off Baekhyun, even though he has to strain his eyes in the darkness. Chanyeol takes every detail of Baekhyun in, in his memory he ingrains Baekhyun’s characteristic smirk, all the shades of his irises, the way his pretty fingers touch his lips when in deep thought, how his skin catches the moonlight. That way, Baekhyun will at least be alive in Chanyeol’s head.</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t realize that he’s crying until Baekhyun reaches over and wipes a tear off his cheeks.</p><p>“Why are you crying? I’m not that shitty of a person, am I?”</p><p>Chanyeol chuckles while another tear drips down into his mouth, salty and warm on his tongue. “Yeah, you’re shitty for being so pretty.”</p><p>“Then, you’re quite a shitty person yourself.” Baekhyun closes the distance between them. This time, their kiss is slow, lacking the usual roughness and greed, and the salty taste in Chanyeol’s mouth is quickly replaced by Baekhyun’s sweetness. Chanyeol kisses him like Baekhyun could break at any moment, caressing him tenderly. Chanyeol wants to kiss away the dull ache in his chest, until he deludes himself that maybe, just maybe, they could have some future together.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It’s hard pretending that everything is normal, but one skill Chanyeol has learned while being a Bounty Hunter is how to pretend. Pretending goes both ways — pretending that he can empathize, but also putting on a mask of neutrality. The latter is harder, because it’s more difficult to suppress emotions than it is to amplify them. And especially when the person he’s dealing with is Baekhyun, pretending is considerably more challenging.</p><p>Chanyeol also learns that time passes differently when there is a deadline. Even though his daily routine is the same, the constant reminder that time is gradually running out, that there is an endpoint, makes each day pass by exponentially faster. Is it possible to instill a memory when you’re living in the present? To remember, even though someone has not yet left? He doesn’t know, but this is what it feels like. It’s like preparing for an apocalypse; spending the present preparing for a future time in order to remember the past.</p><p>Each night he dreams of Baekhyun’s death. There are infinite ways of dying, and each time it’s by Chanyeol’s hand. Baekhyun falls into a river and is unable to swim, Chanyeol stretches his hand out to save him, but Baekhyun is too far away, Chanyeol tries to jump but his limbs stay frozen. A gun on Baekhyun’s temple, Chanyeol shouts “<em>no!</em>” but it’s too late, tears roll down Baekhyun’s cheeks as the gun goes off, then Chanyeol’s the one holding the gun, he’s the one who pulled the trigger and there’s blood on his hands, and he wakes up screaming. They’re in the boxing ring facing each other, Chanyeol catches Baekhyun off guard and lands a punch into Baekhyun’s side, Baekhyun falls to the floor but Chanyeol keeps going, kicking him in the groin and his stomach until Baekhyun retches, but Chanyeol’s relentless, at last Baekhyun coughs up blood and his eyes roll back, unmoving.</p><p>Each time, he wakes up to Baekhyun’s name on his trembling lips. Chanyeol’s dreams are so realistic that he has to console himself that Baekhyun is alive, it’s all a dream, Baekhyun isn’t dead… yet. Chanyeol wipes away cold sweat and lies underneath his covers, awake and shivering for the rest of the night. He’s too afraid that if he closes his eyes, he’ll have to see Baekhyun die again. The next morning, he always resists the urge to wrap Baekhyun in a tight embrace.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It’s the end of the week. Chanyeol has stalled as long as possible, wishing that by some miracle he would be able to avoid this situation. Yet inevitably, Chanyeol wakes up with a knot in his stomach knowing that the day has finally arrived.</p><p>It’s weird running through his everyday routine with the knowledge that blood will be spilled. Chanyeol takes a look in the mirror while brushing his teeth and he’s taken aback. His face is hollowed, a bit grayed out, dark circles underlying his eyes. This isn’t the face of a strong Bounty Hunter; it’s the face of someone who’s just tired.</p><p>The trek to the training room is slow. Chanyeol keeps his eyes to the ground, not even bothering to look at the sunrise. His head is filled with a never-ending monologue — eyes on the prize, think about your mother, think about Sehun, sometimes you need to make sacrifices.</p><p>Baekhyun is oddly happy today. He greets Chanyeol by pulling him in for a kiss on the cheek, even though they’re in public and people are watching.</p><p>“Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. Everyone already knows.” Baekhyun smiles guilefully, sliding his hand into Chanyeol’s. “Let’s go warm up.”</p><p>Unlike the previous days of the week, as they run on the treadmill, Chanyeol keeps his head forward. He can’t bear to look at Baekhyun, doesn’t want to stay too attached at the last minute. How futile; this attempt at keeping his eyes away from Baekhyun comes way too late. Nevertheless, Chanyeol keeps distracted by counting the cracks on the concrete walls.</p><p>“You’re awfully quiet today,” Baekhyun comments as they step off the treadmill and transition to lifting. “Cat got your tongue? Has my beauty rendered you speechless? Do I need to kiss you to make you talk?”</p><p>God, Chanyeol will miss Baekhyun’s teasing and snarky remarks. He fakes a smile. “I’m just tired that’s all. But a kiss would be nice.” <em>Stop it, Chanyeol. </em>His insides crumple a little as he remembers that he shouldn’t be asking for a kiss. An assassin wanting his victim to give him a kiss… how fucked up is that?</p><p>“Maybe later,” Baekhyun winks. “First, train.”</p><p>One of the perks about being attracted to Baekhyun is that Chanyeol has spent the last few weeks obsessively observing his fights. There’s no doubt that Baekhyun is stronger and faster than Chanyeol is, thus Chanyeol’s advantage lies in his knowledge of how Baekhyun moves: his unwillingness to make the first move, his commitment to always being close to his enemy, and his mixture of offense and defense. When Baekhyun teaches Chanyeol how to fight, in reality, Chanyeol is learning how Baekhyun thinks and acts in different situations.</p><p>Today, Chanyeol asks Baekhyun if they can directly fight in the boxing ring.</p><p>Baekhyun raises his brows. “Don’t you want to learn a few more techniques first?” He asks like he always does, implying that Chanyeol isn’t ready to take him on yet.</p><p>But this doesn’t matter; Chanyeol doesn’t think that day will ever come. “Nope, just bring it on. Don’t go easy on me, but don’t break my limbs either.”</p><p>It’s useless to try to tempt Baekhyun to make the first move, unless the goal is to spin around in circles all day. Chanyeol opts for the opposite strategy, the one he witnessed Yixing use. Baekhyun hasn’t even stepped into ready position when Chanyeol kicks, and Baekhyun turns to the right, just barely swerving out of the way. Right when Baekhyun fully turns around, Chanyeol uses one arm to reach for Baekhyun’s throat. Before he makes contact, Baekhyun’s hand intervenes, bending Chanyeol’s thumb to the back — the combat move known as the thumb jerk.</p><p>Chanyeol groans and taps Baekhyun’s wrist with his free hand in an act of surrender. “I said don’t break my limbs,” he complains when Baekhyun lets go.</p><p>“You call this breaking a limb? With this attitude, you’ll never be ready to fight.”</p><p>Chanyeol knows. A real fight would be different, of course he knows that. But that fight hasn’t happened yet. For now, he’s gathered the information he needs to win, and he’s hoping to do so with his thumb still intact.</p><p>“Fine, let’s go back to training then,” he huffs.</p><p>Afterward, Chanyeol follows Baekhyun home one last time. Despite his earlier insistence on suppressing his emotions, he finds himself under the covers with arms enveloped around Baekhyun. It’s warm. They’re both shirtless and it’s hot where Chanyeol’s arms meet Baekhyun’s bare chest. But Chanyeol doesn’t mind; this will be the last time they are touching like this. At this thought, his hold tightens.</p><p>“You’re going to squeeze the air out of me like that,” Baekhyun says breathlessly.</p><p>“I just want to be close to you.” Chanyeol readjusts his grip but doesn’t let go, unwilling to let Baekhyun slip out of his arms.</p><p>“That’s fruitless if I’m dead.”</p><p>Chanyeol freezes at this comment. Baekhyun’s just joking, but it’s like everything is foreshadowing his inexorable death, and Chanyeol doesn’t want to think about that now. He wants to ignore impending doom and focus on the pleasures of the present, but Baekhyun is making that awfully hard. If only — somehow — he could separate his present self from his future self… how nice would that be?</p><p>“Don’t say that.” Chanyeol rests his face in Baekhyun’s hair, taking in his sweet scent. “Can we just stay like this? No talking.”</p><p>“Damn, so demanding,” Baekhyun says and Chanyeol hears the smile in his words. “But okay.”</p><p>And so, Chanyeol holds Baekhyun as the latter slides out of consciousness, heartbeat slowing down against Chanyeol’s fingertips. No matter how hard he tries, Chanyeol is unable to fall asleep. He watches Baekhyun from behind, entertaining what life could have been like if they were born as different people. Infinite could-bes drift through his mind — what if he was in the 2149 experiments too? Or if Baekhyun was born into the Fourth District? Maybe they wouldn’t have fought to the deathbed, but would they have met then? And if Chanyeol had to choose between never meeting Baekhyun and being responsible for Baekhyun’s death… what would he choose? It both unnerves him and pains him that he can’t reach an answer to that last question.</p><p>Even when Baekhyun awakens drowsily, Chanyeol is still holding him close. “Don’t go yet,” he begs. “Let’s stay like this, for a little bit longer.”</p><p>Chanyeol knows, he knows that every moment he stays like this, enlaced with Baekhyun like they are one being, it gets a little harder to let him go. But he can’t help it; short-term desire outweighs any long-term strategic calculations.</p><p>“As much as I would like to stay, I have to go.” Baekhyun pries Chanyeol’s arms off his body and rolls out of bed. He tugs his shirt over his head.</p><p>“Can I come?” Chanyeol asks. “I won’t disturb you. I promise.”</p><p>“I’ve been waiting for you to ask that.” Baekhyun smiles, takes hold of Chanyeol’s hand, and drags him out of bed.</p><p>By now, Baekhyun’s friends at the tavern have confirmed that the two of them are together, though the type of relationship they have is often a topic of gossip. As Chanyeol takes a seat, most of them greet him with enthusiasm. Joongi is the exception, he gives Chanyeol a curt nod, lips pressed in a straight line.</p><p>Chanyeol has become friendly with Yixing after confirming that he and Baekhyun are strictly platonic, and that there is no reason for envy. Yixing is one of the nicest, nonjudgmental people — a refreshing rarity in Koryo.</p><p>Chanyeol recalls a conversation he had with Yixing:</p><p>Yixing approached him the other day as he was about to leave the training center. “I know something is going on between you and Baekhyun.”</p><p>Chanyeol raised his eyebrows, deciding to feign cluelessness. “What do you mean? He’s just my trainer.”</p><p>Yixing gave one of his honey-sweet dimpled smiles. “Hey look, I think you’re a cool person. I’m not trying to accuse you or anything. And regardless of how close you are with Baekhyun, I’ve known him for much longer than you have, and I can read him. He doesn’t seem like the person to, but he brings you up constantly.”</p><p>“Oh. Well in that case, you could say there’s something between us.”</p><p>“I’m saying this because I care about Baekhyun and I want the best for him. As you know, Baekhyun has had a difficult life and what he says might be different than he means. He won’t show his vulnerabilities.” Yixing’s attitude was serious. “If you care about him as much as he does about you, then you must give him the respect he deserves. That means being transparent and genuine about your emotions, even if Baekhyun isn’t about his own.”</p><p>It’s clear why Baekhyun is so attached to Yixing. Although they are just friends, Yixing understands him so well.</p><p>Taeyong is another person Chanyeol has grown fond of. Though young, he’s bright and talented, and incredibly curious about Chanyeol’s life in the Fourth District. Nevertheless, Taeyong has a streak of ingenuousness; he’s idealistic and hopeful, reminding Chanyeol of his younger self. As they wait for the meeting to commence, Chanyeol and Taeyong catch up on their combat progress.</p><p>He’ll miss the people at this table greatly. Even Seulgi and Seungwan who don’t stop teasing him and exchanging not-so-subtle glances every time he and Baekhyun display affection. He will even miss Joongi’s die-hard commitment to the insurgency.</p><p>When the insurgency planning meeting finally starts, Chanyeol takes it as his cue to leave. He and Baekhyun communicate almost telepathically.</p><p>Baekhyun gives him a look that implies: <em>You can stay, you know. No one minds.</em></p><p>Chanyeol gestures with his head. <em>I appreciate it, but I’m good. I’ll be better off hanging by the bar.</em></p><p>“Nice to see you as always.” Junmyeon smiles cheerfully. “Can I get you something to drink?”</p><p>“Maybe later. For now, I’m just looking for some conversation.”</p><p>Junmyeon nods. “Got it. Well, you’ve come to the right place. What’s on your mind?”</p><p>“I’ve been wondering… if you had the chance to be reborn in any caste, would you still choose the Fifth District?” Chanyeol asks. It doesn’t take long for Junmyeon to realize that this is a genuine inquiry. It’s been on Chanyeol’s mind recently — would Fifth District citizens favor a life of luxury if they had a choice?</p><p>Junmyeon thinks for a bit and answers, “Yes, I think. It’s hard to say. I’ve never lived anywhere else, and unlike you, I’ve never seen other Districts either. So, when I hear about the wealth and extravagance of the First and Second Districts, I can’t visualize it. But I don’t think I could leave this place, even though we often lack even basic necessities. What about you? Which caste would you choose?”</p><p>So many people here share the same sentiments, Chanyeol thinks. If someone had asked that same question to him a few weeks ago, he would have chosen to be born in the First or Second District in a heartbeat.</p><p>“It’s different since I’ve seen what life is like in all five Districts,” he says honestly. “I feel like if I was born in the First or Second District, I would forever be ignorant of the Consulate’s injustices. I wouldn’t care about the sun or the sky if I had never seen it before — you get me?”</p><p>“Yeah, I understand. I’m waiting for the ‘but…’”</p><p>“But now that I’ve already been exposed to what the Consulate has done, it’s too late to go back. Now that I know what it feels like to be here, I don’t think I could live in the First or Second District peacefully… I wouldn’t be able to ignore everything.”</p><p>“So, you’re saying that you would choose the Fifth District.”</p><p>Chanyeol laughs.  “In a long-winded way, yeah, I think I would.”</p><p>“I feel like you’re stressing yourself out by thinking about this too much. Let’s talk about something more light-hearted,” Junmyeon suggests. “Have you heard about the first time Baekhyun got drunk?”</p><p>Chanyeol’s eyes light up. “I haven’t. Please do tell.” He’s not one to gossip usually, but first — this is about Baekhyun, and second — Junmyeon’s right, Chanyeol needs to distract himself.</p><p>Junmyeon relays the light-hearted memory, how everyone thought Baekhyun had a high tolerance, but in reality, the first symptom of his drunkenness was asserting that he’s not drunk. Soon he wanted to start fights with everyone, and when someone finally agreed, he got socked in the face.</p><p>“He’s much more in control of himself with alcohol now, thank god,” Junmyeon says with relief. “Only way you could ever get Baekhyun like that again is if you spike his drink. No one wants to for obvious reasons.”</p><p>Chanyeol and Junmyeon gossip for what feels like hours. Mostly, it’s Junmyeon telling embarrassing anecdotes about each person in the insurgency group with a few short reactions from Chanyeol. It’s funny how Junmyeon pauses and gives an innocent, saccharine smile every time someone comes to the bar to order a drink.</p><p>When they are nearing the end of the meeting, Chanyeol asks for two glasses of “the strongest and longest-lasting drinks please.” As Junmyeon prepares the drinks, Chanyeol hopes that what Junmyeon said is correct.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we go to Aluminum Hill?” Chanyeol asks as the meeting comes to an end. People are already trickling out of the tavern.</p><p>“Yeah, we can go wherever you want.” Baekhyun’s words don’t slur but his pupils are dilated and his eyes are red.</p><p>Yixing leans into Baekhyun and takes a whiff of his breath. “Baekhyun, you should go home. You’re drunk.”</p><p>“You think I’d be drunk from just one glass? You clearly underestimate my tolerance. And even if I was drunk, it’ll wear off. Plus, I have Chanyeol with me.” Baekhyun interlocks his arm with Chanyeol’s.</p><p>Yixing sighs. “Fine, just be safe. I trust you’ll be in good hands, right Chanyeol?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>The walk is not so harsh this time with the sun hanging much lower in the sky. The alcohol kicks in half an hour later. Even Chanyeol, who only took a sip, feels himself swaying. Their arms are still interlocked. Every time Baekhyun stumbles, Chanyeol is there to keep him from falling.</p><p>“Why are we going there again?” Baekhyun’s confused, but not enough to stop in his tracks.</p><p>“I have something to show you,” says Chanyeol as he grips onto Baekhyun tightly.</p><p>“And you’re not going to tell me what it is?”</p><p>“It’s a surprise.”</p><p>They reach the bottom of Aluminum Hill when the sun is already beginning to set. By now, the alcohol has worn off on Chanyeol, but Baekhyun is still intoxicated and needs Chanyeol to guide him up the steep parts.</p><p>It’s with significant effort that they reach the top of the hill. The alcohol’s physical effects are beginning to diminish for Baekhyun. He’s able to sit down without rolling all the way back down.</p><p>“The sun has already set,” Baekhyun points at the sky and whines. “We came all the way here but missed the best part.”</p><p>“Just wait,” Chanyeol comforts him. “There’s more to come.”</p><p>As dusk turns to night, the air picks up into a chilly breeze. It ruffles their hair and bites at their cheeks. Chanyeol has come prepared — he takes out a blanket just large enough for them both and drapes it over their shoulders. He also brings out two pairs of gloves and helps slip them over Baekhyun’s pretty hands. Baekhyun leans his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder. In a way, it’s the picture opposite of that first night Chanyeol got drunk at the tavern, now with Baekhyun dependent on him.</p><p>Soon, faint stars materialize in the cloudless web of night, glowing brighter as the sky grows darker. They are high enough that light pollution only filters into the bottom edge of their vision. It looks like a scene out of the Old Era. Everything is clear and crisp; Chanyeol’s five senses are magnified.</p><p>“I hate to interrupt the moment,” Baekhyun whispers. “But didn’t we already see this view last time?”</p><p>“This time will be different. Look what I brought.” Chanyeol pulls a device out of his pocket — a miniature telescope that he constructed himself. “It’s made of pieces from this very hill. Take a look.” He hands it to Baekhyun.</p><p>Baekhyun holds it up to one eye. Chanyeol holds his breath, waiting for Baekhyun’s reaction.</p><p>“Damn.” Baekhyun gives a low whistle. “Chanyeol this is amazing. The stars are so close.” With the telescope still pressed to his eye, he reaches out and closes his hand around thin air. “How did you think of bringing this?”</p><p>Chanyeol stares down at his hands as he reaches back in his memory.  “When I was younger, I would fill my time reading books banned by the Consulate. Those books talked about everything you could think of: art, science, history, language. Out of everything, I was most fascinated by astronomy. For so long I was disappointed because I fell in love with astronomy yet there were no stars in the night to observe. But I was wrong — there <em>are</em> stars. The first time I saw them was on this very hill and I knew I had to get a closer look.”</p><p>Baekhyun hands the telescope back to him. “It’s beautiful and all, but every time I look at the night sky, I feel so insignificant. It’s not pleasant.”</p><p>“For me, I’ve learned to love the insignificance.” Chanyeol peeks through the telescope and is met with an intricate layout of constellations and luminous bodies. “I used to hate it too. I hated how I felt like I didn’t have a say in anything and could only watch as the world unfolded in front of me. Then I began to see that everyone feels the same way, regardless of their caste or the district they live in. And maybe this insignificance is for the better.”</p><p>He lowers the telescope and looks out at the rest of Koryo, covered by a shadow blanket. He continues, believing every word he says. “Humanity believes that we dominate the world, and the Consulate believes that humanity is meant to bend down to Koryo. From where I live, there’s no way out of the nation. We’re stuck here forever. The bounds of our worldview stretch only as far as Koryo’s perimeter. Looking at the night sky, I’m reminded of how small we truly are.</p><p>“We’re not meant to be all-powerful. We shouldn’t be trying to set up systems that control our lives. There are tens of billions of people on Earth and probably trillions outside this planet. The places we’re born, the people we meet, are all just random chance. If one hundred thirty years ago, one couple had sex five minutes after they were supposed to, the founders of Koryo never would have met. Half of our nation wouldn’t exist, including us.”</p><p>“I don’t think I’m following,” Baekhyun says.</p><p>“What I’m trying to say is, us here, you and me sitting on Aluminum Hill together on this night, hell even the fact that we met… infinite coincidences would have had to align. Yet here we are. We’re just two specks in the universe that happened to cross paths.”</p><p>“So, what you mean is, in an infinite number of possible worlds, there is an infinitely small chance we could have met. Yet fate still brought us together, so that must mean something?” Baekhyun suggests.</p><p>“Yeah.” Chanyeol flushes at his lack of conciseness. Baekhyun summed what he tried to say in several paragraphs in just two sentences.</p><p>For a long moment, Baekhyun stares at him with a straight face and Chanyeol is afraid that he’s said something wrong. Then, Baekhyun breaks into a grin so bright and luminous that it draws all the light from the moon. “That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he confesses. “You’re incredibly cute, do you know that?”</p><p>Chanyeol scratches his head. “I’m not—”</p><p>“Yes, you are.” Baekhyun pulls Chanyeol in by the collar and locks their lips together.</p><p>The kiss is long and slow, neither pulling away. Though the night is cold, the two of them are warm, blood and passion pumping through their veins. It’s the almost perfect moment — not as sentimental as Chanyeol would like it to be, and he’s still slightly distracted at Baekhyun’s radiant grin, but other than those, everything is going as planned.</p><p>This is it. The moment has come. Chanyeol’s heart beats wildly in his chest, so loud that he fears Baekhyun can hear it too. But when he opens his eyes, Baekhyun’s eyes are still closed, soul still locked in another dimension where there’s just the two of them. He’s beautiful like this. So peaceful, so serene, and it pains Chanyeol to know that he’ll have to break this ambience.</p><p>With one hand, Chanyeol presses a button on the telescope and it morphs into something shiny, metallic, and cold. He presses it to Baekhyun’s temple. <em>Click</em>.</p><p>Baekhyun’s eyes spring open and he freezes. Slowly, he pulls backward, but Chanyeol’s gun stays connected to his temple. “Chanyeol, what is going on?” he asks softly.</p><p>“Stay still. If you want to live, do not move.” Chanyeol’s words come out gruffer than he intended. It doesn’t match the terror he feels.</p><p>“Is this some kind of joke? Why are you doing this?” Baekhyun’s voice is barely above a whisper but it’s austere with a hint of betrayal.</p><p>Chanyeol has to do everything in his ability to block out his empathetic instinct for Baekhyun. He wants to tell Baekhyun about everything, but that wouldn’t change the fact that after this is over, only one of them will come out alive.</p><p>“You wouldn’t understand,” is all he says, knuckles white from gripping the gun so tightly.</p><p>“Then make me understand. Let’s talk through this like adults, hm?”</p><p>“I’m sorry Baekhyun.” Chanyeol’s arm doesn’t waver. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Suddenly Baekhyun leans back, shifting away from the gun’s bullet trajectory. Chanyeol anticipates this. He lunges forward, reaching for Baekhyun’s neck. Just like in the boxing ring, Baekhyun uses the thumb jerk to avoid the choke hold. This time, Chanyeol is prepared. Instead of doubling down in pain, he simply pulls his hand downward and it slips free out of his glove.</p><p>Baekhyun tries to flee but he’s not fast enough. Chanyeol catches him from the back and locks their legs together, preventing him from running away. The gun returns to Baekhyun’s temple.</p><p>“Don’t try to run. You won’t be able to,” Chanyeol warns.</p><p>Baekhyun raises his eyebrows. “It seems that you’ve forgotten who I am.”</p><p>He tries to twist away from Chanyeol’s hold. But Chanyeol keeps his legs firm and steady, preventing Baekhyun from moving an inch.</p><p>“I haven’t,” Chanyeol says, more confident now that he’s sure Baekhyun won’t be able to kill him in a single blow. “Your superhuman abilities come from your brain chemistry, that’s what you told me. You won’t be able to use that part of your brain for now.”</p><p>Realization hits Baekhyun. “You drugged my drink,” he notes flatly.</p><p>“I did what I had to do. You’re just a normal human now.”</p><p>Baekhyun’s face wilts and his limbs go limp, giving up any struggle. At this, Chanyeol’s confidence turns to hurt, knowing that he’s fully responsible for stripping away the physical traits that make Baekhyun special. Again, he reminds himself that it’s either Baekhyun or himself — one of them has to die.</p><p>Chanyeol should just take care of it in one go. Maybe then, it will be less painful. His finger tightens on the trigger.</p><p>Before he can shoot, Baekhyun lets out a disbelieving, ironic laugh. “Chanyeol, I’m impressed. You carried this out very well. I knew this day would come eventually; I just didn’t expect it to be today. We were having so much fun.”</p><p>Chanyeol presses the gun further into Baekhyun’s temple, trying to hide his startlement at the sudden change in Baekhyun’s persona. “What do you mean?”</p><p>Baekhyun doesn’t flinch. “Not only am I strong and fast, my senses are impeccable, comparable to a machine. Did you really think that at the start, I didn’t realize someone was following me? That first night, your foot rubbed against gravel, don’t you remember? Sure, it could have been anyone. But a few days later, I saw you everywhere I went. You were watching me in the training room and then I saw you again at the tavern drinking beer. You gave me a double take the next when you stood across from me in the ring. I knew that you had to be the one who followed me that night.”</p><p>Chanyeol pales as he processes the information: Baekhyun knew about his goal this entire time. “If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”</p><p>Baekhyun has the audacity to shrug. “I figured that if you hadn’t killed me in the first few days, then you didn’t present an immediate danger to me. I was hoping that you’d come around. That if I got you to love me, maybe you wouldn’t kill me.”</p><p>“L-love you?” Chanyeol’s voice cracks and his finger momentarily slips from the trigger.</p><p>“Maybe love is too strong of a word. ‘Like’ is better. Why?” Baekhyun cocks his head. “Did you love me?”</p><p>Chanyeol feels his head start to unravel into a jumbled mess. He should shoot, he should just end it now.</p><p>“Are you killing me off because I’m not human?”</p><p><em>No, </em>Chanyeol wants to say. Baekhyun is way more human than he is; Chanyeol is the one who kills for money. Instead, he asks, “Does that mean you never liked me? Was everything between us fake?”</p><p>Baekhyun is quiet for a moment. “No… I didn’t mean to like you at first, but I eventually did. As for fakeness, shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one holding a gun to my head.” Silence. “So Chanyeol, was it fake?”</p><p>“… Yes.” The word leaves Chanyeol’s lips forcefully.</p><p>“Okay.” Baekhyun swallows. “Then shoot.”</p><p>“What?” Chanyeol’s voice quivers.</p><p>“If it was all fake, then shoot me. Go ahead, pull the trigger,” Baekhyun dares him.</p><p>Chanyeol looks at the gun, then back at Baekhyun’s unphased expression. The images of Sehun locked up in the Consulate’s prison and his fragile mother in a hospital bed flash in his mind. They remind him of his mission’s urgency. He presses the trigger halfway down.</p><p>Baekhyun’s question pops up in his mind: Was what they had between them fake? The answer comes immediately — no, of course not. All those embraces, kisses, the longing to be in Baekhyun’s presence, to tear apart his mask — they were real. Then the question becomes: Is Chanyeol willing to trade Baekhyun’s life for one million dollars and saving Sehun from imprisonment?</p><p>Chanyeol scans over Baekhyun’s face. The latter is strangely calm, no fear detected, but a silent tear rolls down his cheek. It’s the first time he’s seen Baekhyun cry. Actually no, it isn’t. The first time he saw Baekhyun cry was in his dreams. And that’s when Chanyeol realizes why this scene is so familiar. Except this time everything is <em>real</em> and he has a choice of whether to shoot Baekhyun or not. Chanyeol recalls the deep-seated terror and grief from his nightmares. How much worse would he feel when he kills Baekhyun in real life? Would every night from then on be plagued by those nightmares?</p><p>What if this isn’t a zero-sum scenario? The Consulate has artificially created a tradeoff between Baekhyun’s life and the prize, but what if there is a way around it? How much is Chanyeol willing to risk that infinitesimal chance? His brain fills with a million questions that he doesn’t have answers for.</p><p>“I just wanted to say,” Baekhyun whispers faintly. He sounds tired. “Whether you shoot or not, I love you.”</p><p>The sudden confession reverberates like a tremor from the ground splitting. Chanyeol stiffens, joints locking up. Perhaps he’s imagining it. But no, Baekhyun’s lips moved to the shape of those words. Baekhyun… loves him? His target loves him. This shouldn’t be happening. It’s against all moral rules and boundaries Chanyeol has set for himself.</p><p>At that moment, the world freezes. Suddenly the two of them are no longer Bounty Hunter and target, no longer assassin and victim. They are Chanyeol, the boy with crushed dreams who’s entranced with the sky, and Baekhyun, the strong insurgent with a weak heart and high hopes for the future. Baekhyun’s eyes are a midnight blue, so dark they’re almost black. When Chanyeol peers into them, he expects to drown. Instead, he sees his own reflection staring back. Tear-stained face, tousled hair, dark circles, pain. It still isn’t the face of a Bounty Hunter. Just tired. They’re both tired.</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t want them to be tired. <em>I love you too</em>, he wants to scream. <em>Yes Baekhyun, I did love you and I still do</em>. That infinitesimal chance that they can find some way around this… will he take it?</p><p>His hand shakes uncontrollably. He swallows and blinks tears away. The probability that the two of them would cross paths is just as small as the probability that they both live after this, yet here they are, together. A speck of hope is infinitely larger than nothing — anything is infinitely larger than zero.</p><p>After an eternity, he lowers his arm. The silence between them is deafening.</p><p>Chanyeol’s the first one to shatter it, broken sobs falling from his lips as he crumples to the ground. The gun slips from his hands and makes a loud clattering noise when it reaches the bottom of the hill. He’s still shaking and with every breath, his throat rattles. The metal scraps are numbingly cold beneath him.</p><p>It takes him by surprise when a pair of warm arms wrap around him. He looks up to find Baekhyun kneeling by his side. Confusion hits him — Chanyeol expected Baekhyun to run away, to abandon him. He wants to ask Baekhyun, how could he not hate him after what just happened? How can Baekhyun look at him when he’s just as bad as the Consulate? But the questions and the apologies he has don’t make it out as words. All he can do is continue to cry, the night air choked with his regret, as Baekhyun holds him without letting go.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The first thing next morning, Chanyeol heads to the First District. His hands are stained with the blood of a rodent he killed just hours before.</p><p>“Congratulations, Mr. Park.” Jongwoon wears a complacent smile as the door to his office swings to a close. “You made it just in time. We were just about to make certain adjustments before you arrived.”</p><p>“I want Sehun released,” Chanyeol demands, knowing fully that he’s stepping out of line in terms of conduct.</p><p>Jongwoon raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t get angry. He purses his lips then nods slowly. “I keep my promises. Don’t worry, no one will lay a finger on Oh Sehun. You will also get your monetary reward transferred to your account by tonight. Or would you like it put directly toward your mother’s hospital fees?”</p><p>“I want to see my mother first,” says Chanyeol. It’s been years since he’s last seen her. He was unwilling to pay a visit all these years because — despite the fact that she’s been unconscious — he can’t bear the shame of killing for a living. However, with the Consulate becoming bolder with using personal threats to blackmail Bounty Hunters, he wants to make sure that his mother is safe.</p><p>“Your mother is fine as she always is. She’s under careful treatment of Koryo’s top medical professionals.”</p><p>“Then let me see her,” Chanyeol pleads. He needs to see her, before the Consulate finds out that Baekhyun is still alive.</p><p>Jongwoon maintains a paternalistic attitude.  “We’ve been over this. We don’t let just anyone see the patients.”</p><p>Chanyeol clenches his fists to stop himself from socking Jongwoon in the face. “I’m not just anyone, I’m her <em>family. </em>I was promised in the medical contract that I could see her.”</p><p>Jongwoon shakes his head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”</p><p>Chanyeol raises his voice, now frustrated. “Why? Why can’t I see her?”</p><p>Jongwoon deadpans, “Because she’s dead.”</p><p>It takes a while for these words to process. Slowly, Chanyeol’s face pinches in anguish. “What?”</p><p>“You heard me,” Jongwoon says with a straight face. “She’s dead.”</p><p>Chanyeol falls to his knees and he crouches at Jongwoon’s feet. “No. No, no, that’s impossible. You’re lying to me. Where is she?”</p><p>Jongwoon rolls his eyes. “What don’t you understand? She’s no longer alive.”</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t believe him. “But I’ve been paying her bills for years… haven’t I? How can she be dead?”</p><p>“Her bills were always extremely high, and you never asked if she was alive or not. Even when she died three years ago, you still had two million to pay off.”</p><p>Jongwoon’s words sink in slowly. His mother is dead. He’s been killing people all these years for nothing.</p><p>For some reason, Chanyeol doesn’t cry. He’s not sad, really. He should be, but instead an immense emptiness overtakes him. For all these years, his entire life has centered around earning money to pay for his mother’s hospital bills. The promise that he could see his mother smile again powered him through every time he pulled the trigger or slashed someone’s throat. This promise was the only way for him to feel somewhat human again — that even though he kills, maybe he isn’t so bad because his intent is good. Yet in just a few minutes, the backbone of his life has shattered.</p><p>It isn’t his fault, he realizes. The Consulate may not have lied directly, but they buried his mother’s death. They made him believe that his mother was alive for their own gain. Koryo’s foundation is built on hiding the truth — extreme censorship, information manipulation, the artificial sky of the First District, strict caste separation to limit worldviews.</p><p>Chanyeol has no sympathy for a world built on lies. Just like Baekhyun did many years ago, he redirects his blame to the Consulate. He can kill the root of the lie itself.</p><p>He takes his hand out of his pocket. His fingers are still wrapped around that chunk of metal. Unlike last night, the gun is now warm from holding it for so long. Chanyeol lines the gun up with the center of Jongwoon’s chest.</p><p>Now even more bereft than before, he shoots. The bullet hits Jongwoon square in the chest, spraying the room with crimson splashes. It’s satisfactory; Chanyeol realizes that he’s been dreaming for years about the moment he would take Jongwoon down.</p><p>His gratification ends when a blaring alarm sets off, causing him to jump. It doesn’t take long for him to regain focus. The first thing he does is survey the room frantically to try to find an exit route. Jongwoon’s house is heavily guarded, likely with various hidden traps and security cameras. Running through the hallways would allow Jongwoon’s security to track him down. The elevator isn’t an option either. Someone could easily disable it and he’ll be stuck until his death. The only option is—</p><p>With a crash, the door to Jongwoon’s office is struck down. Standing in its remains is half-human-half-machine, Jongwoon’s cyborg guard Minseok. Chanyeol forgets to breathe. This could be it. This could be the day he dies. There’s no hope of defeating Minseok in a fight.</p><p>Minseok marches closer, each step creating echoes across the floor. When he’s just a lunge away, Chanyeol regains his breathing and clears his head. Minseok may be strong, but he’s heavy which also means he’s slower than Chanyeol. As Minseok slams down his mechanical arm, Chanyeol rolls away just in time. He can do this, Chanyeol thinks. He just has to stay one step ahead. Eventually, Minseok will break his own limbs apart.</p><p>Unfortunately, Chanyeol forgets one detail about cyborgs — their technological advantage. Minseok presses a button on his chest and his arm morphs into a gun. Chanyeol doesn’t have time to think before the first bullet is already let loose, heading straight for his head.</p><p>Chanyeol breaks out into a sprint. The bullet grazes his ear and lodges into the tiled wall behind him. He doesn’t stop, even as shelves fall to the floor in front of him. He simply leaps over every new pile of rubbish. At last, just as a bullet whizzes over his shoulder, he makes it out the doorway.</p><p>As soon as he steps into the hallway, he’s unexpectedly jerked to the side. Someone presses him against the wall and covers his mouth. <em>Who the fuck</em> — Chanyeol’s eyes widen when he sees who it is, and he suppresses a scream. Baekhyun is dressed in all black and wearing the face chain Chanyeol saw hanging from an android head that first night at Jongdae’s repair shop.</p><p>Chanyeol rips Baekhyun’s hand off his mouth. <em>What the hell are you doing here??</em> he mouths. He’s not sure how to feel — angry that Baekhyun followed him all the way here, or relieved that he’s not alone.</p><p>Baekhyun makes a cutting motion at his neck, as if to say, <em>don’t ask.</em></p><p>Minseok’s thunderous footsteps grow louder and louder, as does Chanyeol’s heartbeat. But Chanyeol trusts Baekhyun. If one person can defeat a cyborg, it’s him.</p><p>They wait until Minseok steps outside Jongwoon’s office. Now that the drug’s effects are gone, Baekhyun moves even faster than usual. With a body slam, he knocks Minseok onto the ground. Before Minseok can get up, Baekhyun takes his face chain and wraps it around Minseok’s chest.</p><p>“Run!” Baekhyun yells.</p><p>Chanyeol takes off down the hallway with Baekhyun tailing right behind him. Baekhyun snaps and then a loud sizzling sound erupts from behind them. While still running, Chanyeol peeks over his shoulder and his stomach churns. Sparks of blue light surround Minseok’s body as he spasms violently on the floor. His face is charred black, hair standing on end, and his mechanical eye has rolled out of its socket.</p><p>Genius. Baekhyun is an utter genius. Chanyeol never would have thought to electrocute Minseok, but now it seems like an obvious solution — using technology to defeat itself. Minseok’s metal body conducts electricity to his mechanical heart, which is just as important as his human brain.</p><p>Chanyeol doesn’t have long to admire Baekhyun’s ingenuity. They reach the end of the hallway, where the elevators are located.</p><p>“We can’t use the elevator. They will lock us inside,” Chanyeol explains hurriedly.</p><p>“Fine.” Baekhyun points to a window next to the elevator. “Then we’ll jump through here.”</p><p>Chanyeol gapes. “But we’re on the fourth floor.”</p><p>“Do you have any other proposals?” Baekhyun asks. Chanyeol shakes his head. “I thought so.”</p><p>Chanyeol peeks out the window, gauging the distance from the fourth floor to ground level. Jumping off Fifth District rooftops can’t nearly compare to this. “You go first. Then you can catch my fall,” Chanyeol suggests.</p><p>“No. We’re going together. You’ve trained long enough that this should be a breeze.” Baekhyun punches the window and it shatters easily. “Remember, lean forward as you jump, tuck your knees, and roll out of it.”</p><p>The window ledge is just big enough for them both. Looking down, vertigo hits Chanyeol. The ground sways precariously and he grips onto Baekhyun’s arm to steady himself. Taking in deep breaths, he finds one steady point and looks at it until the world stops moving beneath him.</p><p>“Ready?” Chanyeol wants to shake his head, but he bites his lip and nods. “Jump!”</p><p>Chanyeol bends his legs, uses the momentum from swinging his arms upward to drive him forward, and leaps. The seconds soon after his feet leave the window ledge are surreal. Floating in the air, for a split second he thinks he can fly. But the ground comes surging toward him faster than he expects. At the last moment, he tucks and rolls. His shoulder slams into the ground and a sharp pain shoots through it, but he grits his teeth and avoids crying out. He stands up with unsteady legs, shaking his head to clear away the dizziness.</p><p>“How do we get out of here?” Baekhyun is unscathed, as if he only jumped down a foot.</p><p>“Well, how did you get in?” Chanyeol questions.</p><p>“Through the front gate. I beat the guards up,” Baekhyun states casually.</p><p>“You what?!”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I had a mask on. They had no idea who I was.”</p><p>“That doesn’t matter. We can’t go that way. They probably put up reinforcements and people are about to head our way soon.”</p><p>“Then what should we do?”</p><p>Chanyeol grins. He’s mad, he’s got to be mad. “I have an idea.”</p><p>Never would Chanyeol have thought that he would ride a driverless flying car unless under Mr. Kim’s permission. It’s a reckless decision, one Chanyeol wouldn’t have chosen if they had more time to brainstorm, but they’re on the run and their options are limited. Thankfully, the car doesn’t ask for identification and they are able to soar into the air with no problems.</p><p>“Where are we even going?” Baekhyun asks.</p><p>“Out of this place.” Chanyeol presses a location on the map, some unmapped territory far from the First District, probably in the Fifth. Then, he unsheathes a knife from his belt and stabs it into his left forearm, using the tip to dig out his ID chip. A bloody mess is left behind and he grits his teeth, taking in the pain.</p><p>High in the air, it’s quiet. Not just in the auditory sense, but also in the physical. They are high enough that the blue-sky hologram is no longer in sight, nor are there tall towers that puncture the skyline. Just thick smog that clouds the window, giving them a sense of forlornness.</p><p>With all the action that has happened in the past twelve hours, this is the first moment Chanyeol has had the time to pause and think. The failed murder and Baekhyun following him are two elephants in the room, two large bubbles on the verge of bursting. The silence is suffocating and only gets worse the longer they wait.</p><p>At last, Chanyeol can no longer stand it. “I can explain—” “We need to talk—” they say at the same time, words overlapping in jumbled nerves.</p><p>“You go first,” Chanyeol proposes.</p><p>“No, you. I think you have some explaining to do.” Baekhyun sounds like he’s blaming Chanyeol, which is fair. Baekhyun has all the right to blame him.</p><p>“Okay. It’s a long story… where should I begin?”</p><p>“Start with, why did you try to kill me?” Baekhyun doesn’t sound angry, just betrayed, which is even worse and causes a knot to build in Chanyeol’s throat. Chanyeol would prefer hot anger over Baekhyun’s broken trust.</p><p>“I didn’t want to kill you. Well actually, I did in a sense…” He tapers off, unsure of how to phrase his words. Then he decides that it’s best to start from the beginning. “Have you heard of the Bounty Hunters?”</p><p>Baekhyun furrows his brows. “I’ve heard the term somewhere, but I’ll need a recap.”</p><p>“Bounty Hunting is an industry run and funded by the Consulate. Most are Fourth District citizens who need money urgently and they are given assignments by the Consulate to kill what we call ‘targets’ — dissidents, rebels, or anyone who has upset the Consulate in some way. I had the misfortune of becoming involved in the Bounty Hunting industry at a young age.” Chanyeol explains his mother’s illness and how because of it, he was unable to go to school and had to toil in the factories. But even his factory jobs couldn’t cover his mother’s medical fees. “I was initially just curious about Bounty Hunting. I thought I could try it out once and then leave. It wasn’t supposed to be permanent. But before long, I was overtaken by greed.”</p><p>“You mean I was your target? Why?”</p><p>“The report said that you were wanted for violent insurrection, which was vague since most targets have similar descriptions. The only thing that distinguished you apart from other targets is the mention of the 2149 experiments.”</p><p>Baekhyun narrows his eyes. “So, they wanted me because I’m not human.”</p><p>“Yes…” Upon seeing Baekhyun’s face fall dejectedly, Chanyeol quickly speaks again. “But Baekhyun, the report is wrong. The Consulate is wrong. I believed them at first, but as I got to know you, I realized that you’re one of the most human people there are. You’re flawed, you’re passionate, you would die for your friends and for freedom, and you slowly opened up about your vulnerabilities. <em>I’m</em> the one who is inhuman.” Chanyeol’s chest hurts as he says the next words. “I’m the one who kills for a living. I cared more about money… my mother wasn’t even <em>alive</em> anymore. I’m so sorry, Baekhyun. I’m sorry.” He looks down at his hands.</p><p>“Chanyeol. Chanyeol, look at me.” Baekhyun gently cups Chanyeol’s face so that eye contact is unavoidable. “I can’t say that I have already forgiven you — that will take time. But I meant it when I said that you’re a good person. You’re not a monster. You were the one who helped me recognize that I don’t have to be perfect, that I’m allowed to hurt. I’ll always be grateful for that. And in the end, you decided not to kill me. It was because you realized that the Consulate was the one forcing you to kill, right?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Chanyeol pauses, afraid to say the next sentence. “That, and because what I felt about you was — <em>is</em> real.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Chanyeol raises his eyebrows in surprise. “You do?”</p><p>“Of course. Why else would you compare our simple intentional meetup to something as magnanimous as the complexities of fate? I mean, either that or you’re a phenomenal actor… which you aren’t because I saw through you right away.” Baekhyun laughs. “The funny thing is that my goal worked.”</p><p>“What goal?”</p><p>“The one where I needed to make you fall in love with me so that I wouldn’t be killed.” They lock eyes. “It worked, didn’t it?”</p><p>Chanyeol averts his eyes and flushes deeply. He opens his mouth but only manages a few stammers before he closes it, deciding against embarrassing himself.</p><p>“It’s okay, you don’t have to admit it now,” Baekhyun says with a teasing hint in his voice. “Don’t you have questions for me?”</p><p>“Oh yeah.” Chanyeol slowly meets Baekhyun’s eyes again. “Why did you follow me?”</p><p>“I had to make sure you weren’t going to try again to kill me,” Baekhyun answers nonchalantly and Chanyeol stiffens guiltily. “I’m <em>kidding</em>. I just had a bad feeling that you were going to get yourself in danger.”</p><p>“You followed me… because you thought I would be in danger,” Chanyeol states more than asks.</p><p>“Well, yes. I couldn’t just let you go off and die. It would be pretty tragic to love someone who’s dead, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>Yes, that would be tragic. That’s why they are both still alive, because Chanyeol can’t love someone who isn’t.</p><p>Baekhyun is smiling, but it’s a small, sad smile, one that attempts to hide all the pain that he’s carrying. Chanyeol can see right through the smile and something inside him softens. He knows that he can’t take Baekhyun’s pain away immediately, that learning about happiness takes time, and that healing is a journey. But he wants to be by Baekhyun’s side through the process.</p><p>“I-love-you-too,” Chanyeol blurts, unable to hold it in any longer. Warmth stretches from his neck to his ears as he waits anxiously for Baekhyun’s reaction.</p><p>With a stone face, Baekhyun says, “Say it again.”</p><p>“I love you too,” Chanyeol states again, steadily and certainly.</p><p>Baekhyun’s face is unreadable at first, but then slowly he breaks into that characteristic luminous grin, causing Chanyeol’s surroundings to melt away. So captured by Baekhyun’s expression that for a moment, he forgets their perilous situation — that they’re in a stolen flying car and now deemed the two most dangerous fugitives in Koryo. All he feels is relief to get those words off his chest. He’s not sure how their relationship might change — if it will at all — now that both have admitted their feelings.</p><p>But he can worry about their relationship later. There are more pressing concerns to be addressed.</p><p>“Now what?” Baekhyun asks the question that’s on both of their minds.</p><p>They’ll need a plan. Thankfully, Chanyeol has spent the past few years planning. Though he hasn’t planned a full-scale insurgency, he’s got enough experience to know that they’ll need all the contribution they can get.</p><p>He takes hold of Baekhyun’s hands. “I can help. I might not be the best fighter, but I know a way through the Fourth District.”</p><p>Baekhyun’s face lights up momentarily, then returns to seriousness. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything.”</p><p>Chanyeol takes a deep breath. “I want this. I’m certain. The only thing that kept me back before was the Consulate and look at how that turned out. I can’t continue to live in fear at a time like this. I want to fight for what is right.”</p><p>Baekhyun squeezes his hand. “You won’t regret this decision, I promise. It will be one hell of an adventure.”</p><p>Yes, yes it will be. His mother’s death has marked the closure of one chapter of his life, and the onset of another. He’s ready to give his life meaning again. And this time, the Consulate won’t be able to take that meaning away.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>International News Report, 06/14/2177</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The power struggle has finally ended. For years, Koryo and Usonia engaged in hybrid warfare and gray zone (non-military) conflict and the world held its breath, waiting to see if full-scale war would break out and who would rise to the top. Due to strong censorship by the Consulate, Koryo’s government, Koryo citizens remained unaware that conflict was at the brink until Koryo’s very own Port Jesan was attacked and blockaded.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The attack occurred at midnight of 05/06. An unnamed insurgent commanded a group of powerful fighters who all come from the nation’s Outcast caste, except for one, an unnamed, renegade Bounty Hunter. Using guerilla warfare tactics and drones, they took down ships carrying a month’s worth of food imports to Koryo. The attack was successful, partially due to a Usonian cyberattack that struck down the port’s security system and delayed detection of the attack until it was too late. Some reports claim that another reason for the attack’s success was because the lights in the port stopped functioning, as did any mobile source of light. Koryo soldiers and security forces were plunged into darkness, unable to see clearly and catch the insurgents. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>For one month after, the Usonian navy and airforce blockaded the port, preventing future provisions from entering their enemy nation. The blockade added pressure to internal fractures within the Consulate which hampered a successful response by the government. Just this morning on 06/14, Koryo surrendered. The agreement that will come out of this power struggle is still up in the air.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ultimately, the power struggle highlights an important lesson — the world’s obsession with scientific and technological advancements cannot avoid war. Instead of turning to military technology and deterrence strategies, we should instead focus on questions about human nature. How should we govern? Who is dehumanized, and why? How should we stabilize our relationship with the environment? Questions like these were brought up in the Old Era but are now ignored by world leaders. Perhaps it is time to revisit them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>As for now, a new era awaits.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bonus / Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a short (~ 1k) epilogue that brings more closure!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You want to go back, don’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Chanyeol looks up and is surprised that, despite Baekhyun’s solemn voice, his expression is soft, turquoise eyes swimming with hints of navy-blue. Those eyes — it’s been months since Chanyeol first stared into them, half-dead on the floor of the training room, and yet he still gets lost in those orbs of pain and hope. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to go back to the Fourth District,” Baekhyun states like it’s a fact. No ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I think’</span>
  </em>
  <span> or ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>probably</span>
  </em>
  <span>’; Baekhyun speaks only with certainty, leaving no room for Chanyeol’s denial. And while usually Baekhyun’s special ability to read Chanyeol’s mind is so attractive that it drives the latter insane, the current atmosphere is too sentimental and being turned on would be inappropriate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah… I think I need closure,” Chanyeol admits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the insurgency’s success, he and Baekhyun have stayed behind in the Fifth District, giving trusted politicians and leaders independence in working the logistics out for Koryo’s new government. However, now that things have settled down, Chanyeol can’t help but think that he ditched his old life too quickly. Certainly, bounty hunting and falling victim to the Consulate’s brainwashing are both phenomena he has shed behind. But there are parts of his old ways of life that still chase after him, tugging him toward the Fourth District. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then go. You need this,” Baekhyun says with sincerity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come with me.” It’s not a question; Chanyeol won’t take no for an answer. Having Baekhyun by his side is a must. Almost losing Baekhyun once was more than enough. Being with him brings a rush of comfort and confidence, it’s a voice telling him that </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything will be okay.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything you’d like.” Baekhyun’s serious face slowly slides into a teasing grin, changing the mood from poignant to jovial. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And just like that, Chanyeol’s nerves untangle, eagerness blooming in his chest as he pulls Baekhyun in for a kiss. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Fourth District is just like what Chanyeol remembers: narrow, dilapidated streets brimming with indifferent Proles and trash scraps, advertisements and building signs struggling to illuminate past the polluted air, the perpetual hum of the factories’ machinery in the background. A lesson he’s learned is that </span>
  <em>
    <span>progress is slow</span>
  </em>
  <span>, especially in the districts farther away from the capital. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chanyeol casually points out a few notable sights, like the best liquor shop for a depressing evening, and the old man with bleak eyes who squats every day in the same place, smoking his life away. Surprisingly, Baekhyun is void of snarky remarks. He’s silent and watchful, drinking everything in with his calculating gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stench of abandonment strikes them in the face as Chanyeol pushes open his apartment door. The room stirs back to life. His computer, Dara, flickers on like she’s greeting his return. It all comes rushing back: late nights spent holed up in darkness with the light of technology as his sole companion, getting high off adrenaline surges at the thought of his next bounty, the throbbing longing for a secure life in the inner city. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chanyeol walks around with light footsteps. He stops by his bedside and picks up a cracked holographic display of a photo of him and his mother, taken years ago in the marketplace. They were smiling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You miss her.” Baekhyun’s voice drips with honey, not in the seductive way, but in the tender, fond, gentle kind of way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Chanyeol holds no more rage. Another lesson he’s learned — the past is set in stone, and anger is a weakness. Instead, nostalgia embraces him tightly, gripping him by the shoulders and not letting go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He continues walking. Empty instant noodle containers still cover his small dining table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I almost burnt my apartment down during the trial and error process of creating the ultimate recipe out of meager ingredients,” he explains with a smile. It’s been a long journey since then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a corner, he draws out a book from underneath a rug. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Three-Body Problem</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Liu Cixin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is my favorite novel. It’s a piece of science fiction that taught me how to search for slivers of light during the darkest of times.” The pages are worn with curiosity and love. With gratitude, his fingers graze the words again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Baekhyun merely listens as Chanyeol walks down memory lane. Chanyeol’s thankful for his presence; he gives Chanyeol purpose without being overwhelming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, late afternoon turns to evening and shadow drapes over them. While previously, this would cue a session of painfully squinting in the darkness, he doesn’t have to anymore. There are no assignments waiting, no identities begging to be hacked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>November means the days are short. </span>
  <em>
    <span>November</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s my birthday,” he blurts out of the blue. He frowns, beginning to regret mentioning it at all. Birthdays are luxuries for the wealthy. Not someone like him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Baekhyun slides his hand into Chanyeol’s and squeezes. “Happy birthday. You should have told me earlier.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Chanyeol hasn’t heard the words ‘happy birthday’ for years now and it sounds foreign to his ears. But Baekhyun is smiling so softly, with such genuinity that Chanyeol’s heart clenches, so full of refound love. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It slipped my mind. It’s been years…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With night comes fluorescent inner city lights that have awakened from their slumber. And still, those lights are far away, still out of reach from the Fourth District. But now, Chanyeol’s yearning for modernization is merely a memory. All his needs and wants are by his side, manifested in the strong yet pained, daring yet caring, oh-so-human Byun Baekhyun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All he feels is pure delight. Progress may be slow, but Chanyeol is patient. Because waiting is erased of pain when the one he loves is by his side, waiting with him. </span>
</p>
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